Valor and Venom  34 of 52
by Echowarrior
Summary: A joint humanTransformer construction project is destroyed by a ruthless terrorist organization. Even as efforts are made against them however, the Transformers find themselves dealing with more than one enemy.


Valor and Venom

A Transformers: Armada Story

By William Rendfeld

All around him were the soft sounds of bubbles popping, of mixtures being prepared, heated, cooled, readied for his use. Plant extracts from a dozen worlds were arrayed around him, sorted by phylum and species and thoroughly cataloged. Living specimens, his pride and joy, were placed about him as he pruned them at odd points, trimming them in order to prevent overgrowth.

This was more than he could have dreamed but a short time ago. A lab all to himself, on a planet rich in exotic plant life, each with their own unique and interesting traits. Had he remained with that shortsighted fool after that disastrous battle, he'd be unable to take proper advantage of his talents...even less the opportunity presented by this marvelous little globe. There were so many botanical materials to work with, possibly more so than any previous planet he had visited in the past before being locked up in the _Acheron_.

He remembered full well the reports given by the Mini-Cons that had chosen to strike against Megatron; how Dualor had come in contact with an individual on Earth with impressive resources...one in need of a good scientist. In return for his services and assistance, the scientist would be left in peace to further his own ends and supplied regularly. He didn't know how the man had acquired so much high-yield Energon, but at the same time, he didn't care. He was left to his work...and this time, nothing would stop his efforts.

As he added more food to the soil surrounding his latest opus, the blue and grey Decepticon cooed softly. "Now dear, let's try this again. I want you to say...'Feed me, Brushguard...feed me...'"

* * *

She looked up and around herself in awe, the massive steely-grey walls rising up around her with blank communications screens arrayed upon them, bright lights shining down from above. "They did all this."

"They didn't have a choice. The ship they arrived on was becoming way too small for them." Diana looked upon her redheaded guest with a small grin on her face. "You going to stand around being awestruck all day Stella?"

The redhead shook her head. "Sorry. I've only met just Mini-Cons. It's hard for me to think of Transformers bigger than them, even after all I've seen."

Diana's grin turned into a proper smile. "You'll get used to them soon enough, don't worry." She gave the younger woman a gentle nudge, moving her towards a nearby door.

The large door slid to their right, and the two women entered a large lounge area, clearly built for human comfort. Their feet rested upon hardwood floors that led to carpeted areas. To their left was a well-stocked kitchenette -- cabinets filled with various eating and cooking utensils accompanied by a large refrigerator and freezer, an oven, a microwave, and a working sink mounted into a long counter. Beyond that was an open area containing a long blue couch and a coffee table resting in front of a plasma flat screen that could put the ones currently on the market to shame. And waiting for the human pair were two sets of Mini-Cons, each of them casting their optics at the door as the two entered.

"Stella!" two voices cried in delight, one from Twirl, the other Servo.

Stella smiled and laughed, receiving the two with a warm hug as they responded in kind, three of their comrades approaching happily. "Hey! I missed you guys!"

"We missed you too!" came Twirl's response, her faceplate etched with joy. "You look great. Want a drink? We can..."

The lone Mini-Con that hadn't rushed to see Stella shook her head. "Let Red breathe already Twirl. Girl canna answer if she canna talk."

The small pink and white stealth bomber let go of the girl with a giggle, Stella smiling in return. "You're okay Twirl. Coffee's fine." As Twirl rushed to prepare the requested drink, the woman turned to the taller Mini-Con femme. "No hug for you, Falcia?"

Falcia gave a flippant wave. "Eh. Never been a touchy-feely type. Donna need ta hug yah ta say ah'm glad ta see yah though." While her faceplate showed no signs of a smile, a twinkle in her optics did otherwise, and the redhead simply grinned.

"Well, if all of you are done standing around," said the last of the Sonic Assault Team, gesturing to the couch. "Have a seat."

Both women sat down, the Mini-Cons taking up positions around them as Twirl continued with her coffee-making.

"You have to tell me what all's been going on since last time," Stella asked eagerly. "What have you all been up to?"

"Odd things here and there mostly," Flat-Out answered as he sat down. "Helping all the reawakening Mini-Cons to get acclimated and caught up has been the big thing."

"Not ta mention kicking some Decepti-can."

"I heard about that on the news back in December," Stella said, looking towards Falcia as the Mini-Con relished her memories of the battle. "Sounds like you got out of it okay."

"Well, it wasn't easy," Servo noted. "We probably could've used your secret weapon."

Diana gave the redhead a sideways glance, getting an uneasy chuckle and a mouthed "Later" in reply. Taking that as a signal to change the subject, the professor added, "We've also been going over what happened with the crash."

"Oh yeah...you guys were thinking someone sabotaged the ship that brought you here, I remember." Stella cast her eyes towards the leader of the Super Stunt Team. "Any better idea how, or who?"

Redline shrugged, studying a datapad with half-interest. "It was definitely sabotage, no argument about that. Whether it was done before we left Cybertron or afterwards we don't know for certain. All we do know is that the Decepticons probably weren't the cause."

Stella blinked in confusion. "I thought they all wanted you guys as slaves."

"Not that simple," Combusta corrected as Twirl arrived with two mugs of coffee and a steaming pot. "All the 'Cons under Megatron wanted us for that, but the rest could care less. A bunch of them even ended up leaving him."

"Some were spies in his group, others simply grew tired of following his orders," Diana elaborated, taking up a mug and breathing in its aroma. "Most of them would have the ability to do something like sabotage the Mini-Con ship, but none of them actually did it. They were all in hiding at the time."

"And none of the Autobots would do it either," Flat-Out continued. "That just leaves the Mini-Cons, but none of the Decepticon-aligned ones were online when the ship was launched." Stella gave him a quizzical look. "Preventative measure - they were put in stasis before the ship took off. The rest of us only went into stasis after the ship's engines were destroyed and we started making planet fall."

Stella considered that fact, and began to reason, "Then...the only way sabotage could've happened, would've been if someone who wasn't in stasis sabotaged it. But who?"

"That's the million dollar question." Redline leaned back against a wall as he sat down upon the carpeted floor, tossing the datapad onto the coffee table with practiced ease and watching it skitter next to its stacked look-alikes. "We've brought the matter up with Optimus Prime and the others; they're just as concerned as we are."

A nod from the redhead. "Speaking of, I didn't see many larger Transformers on the way in. Where are they?"

"Most of them are probably in New Mexico," the older woman explained. "The Autobot Corps of Engineers has been at work on a solar power array over there for the last few weeks as part of the treaty. Today's the grand opening, so they're in Gallup for diplomatic reasons, final checks, security and so on." She quickly retrieved a remote from the coffee table and said, "In fact, it's probably on CNN right now."

* * *

The sun shined down upon the facility, its rays reflecting off the glistening metal structure before him. The massive tower stood as tall as a skyscraper, shaped vaguely like an hourglass, supported by a wide base and three long pylons running down from midway up the structure towards control centers built for the human staff. Upon its top were six massive groups of photovoltaic arrays, designed to catch and absorb oncoming sunlight from every possible angle and convert it directly into sunlight, a massive golden globe in the center further magnifying the power-giving rays of the sun.

Franklin smiled appreciatively as he took off his sunglasses. "Not bad for a few weeks work Ironhide."

"Thank you Colonel," came the slightly nervous reply of the tower's architect, a massive blue and red Autobot. "Glad to see someone appreciates this thing. The way the press has been reacting, I almost thought everyone hated it."

"You can't make everyone like your work Ironhide." A second Autobot, colored in the traditional yellow and brown of a construction vehicle, looked in satisfaction upon the structure alongside them. "I know that better than anyone. They'll come around though, given enough time."

Sentinel chuckled. "Funny you mention time. I'm just glad for all our sakes that we had a chance to do this, given what could have been."

"'What could have been' became 'wasn't' thanks to you and Kicker." As the large mech allowed himself a small bow, a chirrup sounded from the Autobot architect's comm.-link. "Yeah Longrack?"

"It's show time Roadblock; the press are getting antsy, and Wirejack reports systems are ready for activation."

"Understood. We're on our way."

Ironhide cast one more nervous glimpse at the tower before him, then followed his mentor and their allies towards the nearby gathering of reporters. He silently hoped that things would go without a hitch, not eager for this project to go wrong. They worked so hard on this, even with questions from wary people and a certain belligerent senator.

As he left, he caught a small glimpse of something moving in the distance. His optics narrowed in upon the vehicles - a trio of eighteen-wheelers with trailers - bearing the legend "ARBCO" in deep red letters. The architect simply shrugged, then hurried to catch up.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, members of the press, honored guests," came Franklin's familiar voice over the speakers in the command deck of Autobase Earth. "We thank you all for attending this historic occasion."

"Nice to see Ironhide's finally got something cool he can show off in public." Sideswipe leaned back in his seat, looking up at the screen before him with clear enjoyment. "Still don't get why we can't just build them some Energon refineries."

"Same reason we aren't building them more oil rigs," Scavenger spoke, also watching the proceedings. "Energon might be a lot more powerful, but it'll run out eventually. The sun, meanwhile, will be here a lot longer than the human race. Maybe longer than us. Besides, this seemed like the wiser course; Energon's a new thing for them, and solar energy isn't."

The communications officer righted his seat, steadying himself with his console. "Makes sense I guess. Just hope they like it."

The current Earth commander grimaced and crossed his arms, something niggling at his circuits. Predacon rested a hand on the bulldozer's shoulder treads upon noticing the apprehension. "Relax old friend. This is an important day; it would do little good to be so glum."

"But why do I get the feeling we aren't the only ones that are going to treat it with any importance?" the former academy instructor murmured, warrior's instincts flaring up.

* * *

"I still have serious issue with this project Mr. President." Beller attempted to remain calm as she spoke, although the loathing in her voice for the subject matter was all but evident. "If this is successful, we'll be relying on the Transformers even further."

"If this is successful, I'll be giving the world one less bit of reliance on oil," the Commander-in-Chief's accented voice responded on the other end. "You've been supporting energy initiatives ever since you entered office Senator. This is exactly what you've campaigned for."

"I campaigned for electric cars and lowered emissions from factories," she shot back. "This is totally different, and I for one will be protesting it at every available opportunity."

She could barely hear the aggravated sigh at the other end. "Senator, I don't have to remind you of the game we play. This passed, however barely. You win some, you lose some. Wait until next time."

The dial tone played across her ear following the click of a cut line. Reluctantly, Beller set the phone back upon its receiver and sank sullenly into her chair. Blue eyes focused upon the muted television before her as officials from several government organizations and a few Transformers stood before the hated solar tower. It took all her willpower to keep from snarling at the sight, much less throwing her remote at the screen.

* * *

"...and now at long last, if everyone will allow me a moment to remember my verses, I say, let there be light."

Ironhide couldn't help but snicker as Franklin, alongside the Secretaries of Energy, State and Defense, flipped a massive golden switch mounted upon a wall. The device was purely ceremonial - it didn't directly activate the solar tower, it merely signaled the staff to bring systems online. The same effect, but slightly less dramatic when one knew how it worked.

As he watched, the massive panels atop the tower swiveled in place, sweeping up upon their multi-jointed arms to face the sun. Sensors built into the arrays allowed the systems that maintained the power plant to track the Class G star's progress through the sky, although much of the panels had been built to allow optimal solar collecting without too much movement on the PV modules themselves. The globe ascended into position upon its pole, reflecting further light upon the panels.

"Ironhide, this is Wirejack," the programming specialist spoke. "It's online and working; estimated power levels at over nine thousand megawatts. Shame this isn't hooked up to a grid yet, but we're definitely charging a lot of batteries in there."

"Any news is good news," Ironhide said over the inter-Autobot frequency as the gathered press and politicians at his feet milled about in excitement. He cast quick glances in the distance at the various Transformers standing guard, as well as the few who were near the stage themselves as part of the ceremonies. He allowed himself a triumphant smile.

* * *

"Nice that the kid's toy works," Cliffjumper noted from his perch at the weapons console aboard the _Axalon_. "Shame it isn't hooked up to anything."

Bulkhead flicked the back of the younger Autobot's head with one finger, prompting an indignant squawk. "They've established that it'll generate power safely lad. Now, seeing as that little detail's dealt with, they can deactivate it, then hook it up to a grid."

"And if it works like Ironhide says it does, it'll be enough power to keep the lights going in Gallup indefinitely." Rodimus leaned back in his seat, a smile on his youthful face. For once, things were running smoothly, despite trying to ignore that feeling of something imminently coming. "After everything that's happened lately, this'll be a nice sign to Earth and it's people that we're on their side."

Sirens sounded off as Tow-Line's voice quickly filled the command deck. "Don't count your protoforms before they come online - we've got something on sensors! High-altitude aircraft moving hot towards the facility!"

The Autobot cavalier sprang to his feet. "Get a signal down to Ironhide and Autobase, and get that thing onscreen! I want an origin point, now!"

* * *

"I'll have to hand it to you Mike, when I heard about these robots of yours, I was scared out of my wits." The Secretary of Defense gave an easy chuckle as he took the colonel's hand and admitted, "I'm still scared, but now it's more awe than fear. You did good putting us on a fair basis with them."

"Thank you Mr. Secretary," Franklin replied as he shook hands with his superior. "With any luck, this is just the first benefit of the Cybertron Accord."

"Excuse me." Ironhide had leaned down beside them. "Colonel, Mr. Secretary, there's a problem."

Keller's own cell phone went off shortly afterwards. As he retrieved it and listened closely, the howl of engine fire rang in the distance, causing several people to look up curiously while Franklin's soldier instincts were already running. The secretary quickly hung up and moved to the podium, calm face belying some of the negative emotions he was feeling. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've received word of an approaching aircraft! It refuses to identify itself! We've assumed it hostile, and the area is to be evacuated immediately!"

The gathered press and staff members quickly made for their vehicles within a barely controlled frenzy as Roadblock disconnected his gun from his right arm and took hold of it. "Build Team, Talon, Mudflap, Landmine, flanking positions around the tower! Longrack, Overhaul, make sure the civilians get out safely! Treadbolt, Race Team, Exploration Team, with me and Ironhide!"

Thundercracker's familiar voice filtered in through their comm.-links, all of them now switched over to the combat frequency. "Aircraft spotted, coming in from west-southwest; it's heading right for the solar tower. I'm heading in. Wirejack, back me up; that thing's got to have an onboard computer system, see if you can hack it."

"Roger."

As the cabinet heads and governor were escorted to three armored vehicles nearby, Ironhide trained his optics on the distance, watching as the two Seekers took off towards their target. He saw it just within his visual range as it closed in; its exterior was black, and he could barely see it for the heat trail it was putting out. "That thing looks familiar..."

Franklin was given a pair of binoculars by a soldier on station, and was also studying the airborne intruder. "I know that silhouette; it's an SR-71 Blackbird, our design. We all but retired those planes almost a decade ago."

"Someone must be an aviation fan." Roadblock readied his gun. "Thundercracker, the sooner you get to that thing, the better!"

* * *

The deep grey Flanker streaked towards the oncoming plane, his backup flying close behind. "I've got him in my sights, but sensors are having trouble locking on and I'm betting it's because of whatever ECM it's using!"

"Linking up with the onboard computers!" came Wirejack's report, his hacking processors interfacing with the bogey's systems. As much as he preferred a direct link, wireless was his only option at the moment, and the young flier hoped he wouldn't be cut off. "This is impressive stuff for human tech...almost too impressive! But I'm not getting any life support systems; a plane like this would have to have them...unless no one's onboard!"

"Drone plane huh? That makes things easier!" The Decepticon's Cyber Key flashed as his long-range cannon came online, barrel extending. As much as he disliked sight-targeting, almost any form of ECMs, be they Cybertronian-based or the recently tested Earth-based, usually rendered heat-seeking, homing, laser, and/or radar guided missiles pretty moot. "See if you can figure out who has the remote control; I'll make certain their toy doesn't cause more trouble!"

Suddenly, the drone Blackbird put on an additional burst of speed, forcing the two Cybertronians to weave past and out of its way to avoid a head-on collision. Before they could regain their bearings and follow, it was far distant.

"Okay, no way could an Earth aircraft do that." Wirejack quickly redoubled his efforts to interface with the jet just as twin missiles descended from its technically nonexistent bomb bay.

Thundercracker was barely able to send a warning through the band before the ordinance fired off.

* * *

His deep blue optics peered out upon the incoming warheads, calculating the trajectory even if it wasn't exactly a skill he employed often. Treadbolt flexed his massive brown fingers grimly. "Looks like these guys didn't get the memo; we didn't need a wrecking crew!"

"For once big guy, I think you're onto something." Roadblock simply took aim with his rifle. "Open fire!"

The three members of the Exploration Team quickly linked up with the massive dull yellow bulldozer, allowing him to fire off a single missile as his associates unleashed their salvo.

One of the warheads exploded, leaving a fiery cloud in its wake. The other shot past and collided with one of the support struts, just as the control center at its foot became empty. The slightly damaged structure was clouded in a fine greenish mist.

"No boom?" Downshift quipped as he looked at the aftermath. "That's strange."

"Obviously that thing wasn't carrying an explosive payload." Dirt Boss stepped forward but remained close to his allies, his optics trained on the damaged point. "Looks like some variety of spore; they're latching onto the metal. Can't determine anything else from this distance."

"We'll deal with that once that plane's down." Roadblock immediately reactivated his comm.-link. "Wirejack, please tell me you can deactivate that thing!"

"No such luck, but I've been able to figure out where the Blackbird is receiving its signal! Not much power, so it's nearby...there! It's coming from one of the big-rigs! About a mile from the tower!"

"Overhaul, Longrack, after that semi! TC, shoot that thing down!"

* * *

"Working on it," came the Decepticon's calm response as he zeroed in on the enemy aircraft. Ignoring the auto-targeting system tied to his missiles, he reactivated his Cyber Key and let loose the powerful burst of plasma, hitting the left engine dead center. The Blackbird itself exploded within seconds, wreckage raining down upon the ground. "That's one less problem."

The explosion, however, sent the cloud that had been drifting from the destruction of the first warhead flying into the tower. As it touched, the tower's surface began to distort in color and break down, the spores within eating away slowly at the structure. Nauseous looks graced several of the mechs' faces - some of them had read accounts of cosmic rust that ate through any sort of metal like nobody's business and found the resemblance disturbing.

"You were saying?!" Talon flew as close as she dared and examined the damage, her optics narrowed in concentration. "Looks like these spores eat away at metals and plastics, a little faster with the latter."

"Do what you can to contain it there, then move to the support strut," Roadblock ordered over the frequency.

"Shouldn't be a problem," the femme noted with a grin as she pulled out a small grenade and moved back a distance. She threw the explosive at the damaged section of the tower. It popped open on impact, coating the spores with liquid nitrogen and stopping their attack against the structure. A nod and a satisfied smile before she zipped over to the nearby support strut. "A frost bomb stops them easily enough."

A loud rush of exhaust caught the Harrier's attention and as she turned to look, caught sight of a set of missiles rocketing towards the building and the gathered Autobots.

The mechs on the ground opened fire, blasting apart two of the warheads as the rest broke apart into smaller missiles. Several blasted into Sentinel Maximus, the rest tearing into the base of the tower violently, blowing back Talon in the process before she could correct herself. The support strut buckled further, snapping at the point of damage and leaving the damaged tower to lurch.

* * *

"The tower's collapsing!" cried out a small yellow and black Autobot, twin shovel blades jutting out from his shoulders. "Build Team!"

Suddenly, three of the Autobot's fellows jumped into the air, locking mechanisms emerging from their bodies as they combined and formed arms and legs, the fourth linking up and locking into the central portion.

With long, thin black arms formed from the legs of one of his components, the combined Autobot grabbed hold of the structure, casting a glance back as the humans within the control center behind him continued to evacuate. A third arm quickly supported him, backed by massive gusts of wind heralded by a silver and blue flash of light.

The combined Autobot grunted. "Thanks guys, appreciate it."

"Don't sweat it kid," Landmine called back, the winds bursting forth from his back-mounted turbines. He called to his partner and asked, "You okay Mudflap?"

The Decepticon crane had fully extended his crane arm, the end helping to support the structure and prevent its fall. He himself was braced on the ground, his legs spread apart to provide further support, but the strain was evident on his face. "I've dealt with worse!"

The last of the military personnel departed, some of the officers throwing worried looks as they glanced back when an ominous creak sounded off the sign of stressed metal.

"Landmine, you first!" the combined Autobot grunted. "Then you Mudflap! We'll go last!"

"Landfill, you can't support that forever!" the Autobot veteran declared.

"Don't have to do it forever, just long enough for you guys to make tracks!" Another loud groan from the tower, warning of its impending fall. "GO!"

Landmine halted his Cyber Key and immediately transformed and drove away. Mudflap followed a second later, heading in the opposite direction. Finally, the Build Team separated, its members transforming to vehicle mode and driving away just in time as the structure collapsed at last.

Ironhide watched in shock from the distance as he and the Race Team saw to Sentinel Maximus, while Roadblock scowled. "Overhaul, I want some good news!"

* * *

"Working on it!" the Autobot warrior grunted as he and Longrack charged towards the semi rigs. Just as they approached, the third semi's trailer split open down the sides, a set of missiles firing off.

The two Autobots transformed, twin flashes of silver and white light signaling their Cyber Key abilities coming online. Longrack lashed out with his massive right arm as Overhaul fired off an anchor-shaped blast of energy. Both strikes hit the missiles at once, destroying them without much difficulty.

While the small green Humvee let out a whoop of celebration, his orange and brown partner caught a glimpse of three small forms transforming and combining into a larger form, blasting away with three more forms holding tight atop. Overhaul noticed just as it blasted into the distance and faded from view.

Longrack gritted his dental plates. "Slag."

* * *

"...while no life was lost, ABC News has learned that one of the Autobots, Sentinel Maximus, was damaged in the attack. He is currently in stable condition according to the Liaison Council. The project, according to the council, will be re-evaluated..."

The monitor froze on the destroyed tower as Optimus Prime turned to the gathered members of Autobot Intelligence. "Thoughts anyone?"

"Well, that was an impressive bit of demolitions." Flareup's optics glittered eagerly. "I mean, they hit it at just the right places to knock the tower down. That was a work of..." The femme took note of the uneasy stares pointing her way and grinned sheepishly, shrinking back into her seat a little. "Well, they knew what they were doing."

Chromia shook her head in slight irritation and mild amusement of her youthful charge's fascination with explosives. "Any word yet on how the support structures were damaged?"

"Only that some sort of spore was used, one that eats metal and plastics. It's being given a thorough examination now."

"Just one question then." Mirage looked over the damage with a careful optic, choosing his words delicately. "No debating this was targeting us; we constructed that tower with human approval, and one of our own was blasted in the process. Are we going to be the ones to handle this, or are we leaving it to the humans?"

The door to the conference room opened. "Course we're gonna handle this, Mirage. We're just gonna have to be careful 'bout it. And who better than the expert to handle ta careful stuff?"

The gathered Autobots looked upon the new arrival with pleasant surprise. He was slightly taller than Mirage, and much bulkier than the spy, with silver and black armor and four-pointed claws for hands. A deep blue visor rested upon his face, with an easy smile underneath.

"Jazz!" Bumblebee rushed forward and met his old commander with a friendly high-five. As the other members of his unit gathered around him, the yellow Autobot asked, "What are you doing back on Cybertron?"

"I asked him back." Optimus stepped forward, Ricochet stepping aside. "No offense to everyone here, but if this goes as badly as I fear, we'll need all the help we can get."

"'Preciate the vote of confidence Prime." The intelligence agent shook hands with his commander and gestured to the screen. "Now, mind fillin' me in on the details? I picked up a little from the news feeds, but the more info the better."

"Very well. Here's what we know so far..."

* * *

Smokescreen gave a low whistle as he surveyed the readings before him. "Speaking as someone who's been where you are Sentinel, I don't envy you. This has got to hurt."

"Not as badly as you'd think." Sentinel titled his head to look at the rest of Autobase's unofficial repair crew. "What's the estimate for repair?"

Along one of the damaged points on his arms, Coby examined the damage with the aid of a mini Maglite. "The good news is your armor took the brunt of the blast. What little got busted up on the inside can be repaired easily enough."

"Yeah, this is light; you barely got grazed." As the orange Mini-Con quickly retrieved a massive tub of parts, the doors to the repair bay slid open. "Look who's here; hey kid. Who's your lady friend?"

"Refute, this is Misha." Kicker gestured to the thin, dark-haired girl at his side. "Misha, Refute."

"A pleasure."

"Likewise. I'd shake, but..." Refute raised an arm, his claw-like hand opening and closing with a snap. "Well, not really built for that."

Misha gave a small laugh. "It's fine, I don't mind." She turned towards the prone form of Sentinel Maximus, Coby and Liftor examining the damage close-up, and asked, "Is he going to be alright?"

"Compared to some of the damage I've gotten?" The blue and red Bugatti gave a chuckle. "Don't worry. Patching up Sentinel should be easy enough. All he has to do is shut down that Overload unit of his, and we can get started."

Just as Misha was about to ask just what Smokescreen meant, Sentinel Maximus's head slid out of place. His chest, and a good portion of the internal part of his torso, disconnected from his body and landed upon the silver floor with a loud thud. The component, now resembling a heavy transport truck, transformed into a Mini-Con-sized robot bearing a small Autobot emblem, and walked towards the two.

Comprehension dawned on Misha's face. "I get it! Sentinel Maximus is like Rollout; the larger body's really just a Mini-Con combined with a combat frame."

"Yes and no," answered the small robot. "The technology is the same, no argument, but I'm not a Mini-Con. My proper name is Hyperlinq; I'm an Autobot, the same as Smokescreen but much smaller."

"Remember that alternate future I came from?" Kicker gestured to the Overload unit as the repair crew went to work, absently listening to the techno-babble soon flying. "Energon was scarce; in order to conserve what they could, the Transformers started operating out of smaller and smaller bodies. Just as well considering how we managed to undo it."

"Time travel would take a lot of energy." The young woman glanced over the body curiously. "Is the device part of the frame?"

"The device practically is the frame. What space wasn't devoted to transformation systems and the weapons was left mostly for Energon storage. I provided the power, and Kicker completed the circuit." Hyperlinq shook his head. "No chance of it working now however; some of the components used in the device were fried in the process. We can't put it back together even if we wanted to. Fortunately, the frame itself can still be used. Not much of a loss, all things considered."

"Almost makes you think something wanted them to stay here." Smokescreen gave the two humans a conspiratorial glance. "Spooky, huh?"

Kicker gave the operations officer a sad smile as he brushed aside memories of his timeline before moving over to help Coby. "We're probably better off."

* * *

"I've had people examining the wreckage of that fake Blackbird. Human design, no doubt, but with Cybertronian technology built in; the engines were too powerful, that remote control system is far too advanced for us, and we found traces of Energon as fuel." Franklin rubbed the bridge of his nose while going through the report. Just when things were going so well between the politicians and the Transformers, this had to happen. "We might have a leak."

"Some chance of that." Scavenger rumbled darkly as he faced the monitor before him, looking over his own reports. "Anything on that 'ARBCO' company?"

Rustling of paper. "My contacts haven't given me anything yet, but I expect something before too long. Any luck examining the wreckage, or the footage from the attack?"

"Astroscope's looking at those spore things now, and Overhaul and Longrack are looking at the satellite footage of our escapees. Wirejack's looking over the computer codes he gleaned from his hookup, just in case that grants us anything." The large green bulldozer crossed his arms. "I'm surprised no one's come forward to take credit."

The Air Force colonel scowled. "They'll come forward soon enough. No one can keep quiet forever."

* * *

"Fascinating."

"Fascinating? I give you spores that eat through metal and plastics, and you call them 'fascinating'?"

Astroscope looked up from his scanner and gave Dirt Boss a pinned look. "What would you prefer I call them, dangerous?"

"Among other things, yes." The yellow and grey Mini-Con glanced at the readout. "So, you're better with plants than I am. Anything you want to chip in?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." The blue and red scientist carefully picked up the Petri dish containing the sample of spores. "I've examined the genetic structure of these spores; it's been altered slightly. They're definitely plant-based, but in addition to pumping out oxygen, these also excrete a powerful acidic compound. Said compound, as you said yourself, eats through most inorganic materials, including metals and plastics – similar to cosmic rust, albeit with some differences. Now that we know how it damages us however, we can figure out a method of countering it." His optics turned to a large chuck of frozen materials. "Aside from coating it with liquid nitrogen at least. I'll let everyone know when my team and I have found an effective countermeasure."

The Race Team's scientist marched off, muttering to himself. "The sooner the better."

* * *

"Replay footage, time frame zero-nine-zero-one-four-eight to zero-nine-zero-two-zero-six."

As Longrack furrowed his optics and reviewed the recalled footage, Overhaul huffed angrily. "Spores. Don't need to review satellite footage to know what that means. This is Brushguard's work."

"It's doubtful that he's working alone however." The small Autobot glanced down at Redline as he continued, "You saw six beings leave, three of them having transformed and combined into some sort of jet. They delivered the payload; clearly, they're working with him."

"And when we find 'em, we'll kick their skidplates but good," Falcia promised, prompting a supportive cheer from Twirl.

Stella looked up at the monitor uneasily. "I don't get it. Who's 'Brushguard', and what does he have to do with these spores?"

"Brushguard's a Decepticon. He worked with Megatron for a while before disappearing back during the battle here a few months ago. He's a xenobotanist; thus, he's probably the one who bred those spores," Combusta chipped in, pulling up said Decepticon's profile on a portion of another screen.

"An alien plant doctor?" The young woman shuddered. "That's a little too creepy. But how'd he get the missiles?"

Diana shrugged. "A lot can happen in six months I guess."

"Doesn't matter how he got 'em." Overhaul pounded his fist into an open palm. "What matters is he's out there. No way is he gonna do this again."

Diana gave the green Humvee a hard stare. "Sounds like you two have history."

"They're family." She cast a glance towards Mirage. "Something like it anyway. We Transformers don't have families in the same manner as humans; no real fathers or mothers, creators are the closest, same as mentors. We have siblings and cousins, but that's about it."

Stella looked upon the yellow and black Mini-Con curiously. "How does that work? No offense, but you guys aren't really 'born' in the same way humans are."

"No, you guys are a little bit messier about it," Downshift agreed. "With us, you just build a working body frame and plant a Spark in it. Lots of ways to do that too; there's high-energy bombardment..."

"Blasting the body frame with a high amount of energy and hoping that a spark forms." Flat-Out shook his head. "Wasteful, doesn't work nearly often enough to justify it."

"...spark bonding..."

"Sparks from two Transformers are mingled, creating a third spark mixing traits from both." Servo shuddered. "Closest thing to what your people call 'sex'. Just as dangerous and kinda creepy if you ask me."

"...or the use of something like the Matrix or Vector Sigma."

"The safe way." Combusta's voice indicated a smile. "You just turn the thing on, and boom, new little Transformers. Best of all, it can do the job in bulk."

"And when more than one Transformer is given a spark at the same time, they're considered siblings." Downshift spread his arms and declared, "Simple!"

"And cousins?"

"Two ways." Mirage raised one hand, two fingers extended. "One's where the creators of different mechs or femmes have some familial connection, or have a common creator in the past. The other is..."

"...Similar body types." Stella looked up as Overhaul explained bitterly, "There are a lot of common Transformer designs, some more common than others like the Seekers. Look hard enough though, and you'll find plenty of Transformers that look exactly the same except for their paint job or something. That's the only thing that links me to that garden-crazed psychopath, nothing else."

"If it makes you feel any better, not all of us are happy with our 'relatives'." The brawler shot a glare as Wirejack looked up from his arm-mounted computer, data being transferred between it and the base as he typed. The hacker's wings twitched once as he muttered, "Well, you try being called an 'Autobot Seeker' all the time."

"But...putting it all like that, wouldn't most of the Transformers have some relation to one another?" The redhead looked at Redline and asked, "I mean, there are other Transformers that look like you guys."

"There are, and you're right." The crimson Mini-Con's optics suggested a smirk. "That's one big thing that's helped against Galvatron; there's more that unites us than divides us."

"If I can distract everyone from their genealogical studies for a minute, I've got something." Longrack quickly brought up a single frame from the surveillance footage. "This is the best angle I've got on the attackers. Any way you can clean up the image a little Wire?"

The young Autobot shrugged and continued typing.

The image brightened and became slightly more defined. Those gathered swiftly began to make out what resembled a trio of Mini-Cons, two with construction vehicle bits and one resembling a tank, riding atop an oddly-designed jet.

Kicker's aunt blinked. "That thing...it looks like the Skyboom Shield."

"Except it isn't." Mirage's optics widened as Diana turned to him. "That's the Magnawing Shield, the fifth Core Weapon. Not as powerful as Skyboom, but slightly more versatile; it also serves as a jet when combined, capable of ferrying another team of Mini-Cons or a smaller Transformer about on the battlefield. It's the Speed Chaser Team."

"And look who they're carrying." Longrack's optics narrowed. "The Demolition Team. They sided outright with Megatron back in the Second War; had a fondness for blasting apart any building they saw."

"One Decepticon scientist and a pair of Mini-Con teams." Diana crossed her arms, a finger tapping the crook of her elbow. "What brought them together?"

* * *

The small jet and its three passengers streaked low through the air, cloaked from view and barely visible to the naked eye. It silently flew through the lower atmosphere, barely casting a shadow upon the surface of the deep blue sea beneath it. The passengers remained quiet as their transport approached a large island, jutting out from the sea like a partially-destroyed cone.

The aircraft slowed and deactivated its camouflage as a portion of the rocky island moved aside, allowing it entrance to a massive hangar, bustling with activity from numerous men and women clad in uniforms of either blue, purple or red. The jet halted, and the three Mini-Cons onboard jumped off.

"Another job well done." Wideload stretched his arms unconsciously. "Seems these people actually know a thing or two about proper demolition."

"I'll say; that stealth plane was a great distraction." Broadside eyed the guns mounted upon his right arm with a sad note. "Just wish I'd had a good shot at one of those support struts. Those spores of Brushguard's didn't work nearly fast enough."

"Don't sweat it." Sledge gave an easy wave with one of his blade-like arms. "We'll get another chance soon enough."

"I take it from your banter that the mission was successful." The trio turned as a group of soldiers approached them, at their head a fit, curvy woman in a black suit with long black hair and wire-rimmed glasses. Her voice, laden with a thick Slavic accent, commanded as much attention as her physique, if not more so.

The jet that the Demolition Team had arrived upon separated and transformed into three more Mini-Cons, their leader an angular purple and neon green one with ruby optics. "Indeed it was Baroness, though the news reports should have made that more than clear."

"You cannot trust everything you hear on television," the raven-haired woman countered. "Come. Your presence is requested by our...leader."

The six followed the woman and her flanking troops. All about them, purple-suited workmen did final preparations on numerous deep blue aircraft, black ground vehicles, and ashen grey submersibles, aided in the latter case by a trio of murky brown Mini-Cons. Adorning each vehicle was a unique symbol, one that the six Mini-Cons either ignored or secretly derided; a deep red cobra, its fangs bared as if to strike at the viewer. It was a symbol of fear, one all but forgotten by the world...and about to be remembered.

* * *

"No denying it Jazz, it's good to have you back."

The silver Autobot laughed appreciatively as he and his friend walked down one of the Citadel's many corridors. "Glad to be back Bumbles. I heard out on the Rim you guys have had some interestin' stuff goin' down; Megatron attacking the Council, finding the Mini-Cons, that whole treaty with Earth. Startin' to think I shouldn't have left." He gave his smaller friend a gentle nudge. "I also heard you've done pretty good pickin' up my torch."

Bumblebee ducked his head, though he couldn't quite hide the pride in his voice. "I'm not you. I just did what I could."

"S'all I ever did kid, and I got by just fine, same as you." His tone became slightly more serious. "Speakin' of, how's everyone holdin' up?"

"Chromia, Flareup, Mirage and Ricochet are their usual selves thankfully." The smile faded from the yellow Autobot's face. "The same goes for Repugnus though, for what it's worth. Still don't know how to deal with him."

"Quart of Maccadam's best helps. And Fallback?"

Bumblebee grew downcast. "MIA. He was on leave on Nebulos when...well, you know. Only one ship got out, and he wasn't on it."

Jazz's shoulders drooped. "He was a good mech. I'll miss him. Always needed to lighten up though, poor guy." He then shrugged. "That's the way the oil drips though, y'know? Nothin' we can do 'cept hope he's happy in the Allspark." A firm look at the Espionage Director. "Not your fault though."

"Easy thing to say." As they approached one last door, marked by a golden Autobot emblem, he sighed. "Wish I could keep it to spark."

The door cracked open. Gathered around a circular conference table were the various leaders of the Transformer factions, bright and welcoming light shining down upon them. Sitting alongside Optimus Prime in his simple bronze-colored chair were his closest advisors - Ultra Magnus, Grimlock and Checkpoint sat to his immediate right, with Jetfire, Vector Prime and Red Alert to his left. Near them, almost opposite were a few odd Decepticons, Starscream at their center and flanked by Shockblast, Barricade, Wreckage, Skywarp, Flamewar and Brawl. Atop the table were seated various leaders among the Mini-Cons, placed close to their partners - Sparkplug and Over-Run, Leader-1 and Swindle, Comettor and Thunderclash, Rollout, Longarm and Knock Out all had places at the smaller table atop a table. Jazz and Bumblebee took the two remaining seats, directly between Red Alert and Skywarp.

"There's a sight for sore optics." The purple Seeker gave the two arrivals a friendly smile as they settled into their seats. "Didn't know you were back home Jazz."

"Sounds like ya missed me."

The Decepticon warrior returned the Autobot operative's grin. "Maybe I just missed a member of the old guard is all."

Those gathered swiftly turned as holographic avatars took form above the table before them. Chatter died down as the familiar faces of Scavenger, Rodimus, Thundercracker, Predacon, Astroscope, Anti-Blaze, Roadblock and Ironhide took form, alongside a hologram of their human ally, Colonel Franklin.

"I'm glad everyone could make it to this meeting," Optimus Prime began. "A lot's happened in the last few cycles, and it's time we began getting it sorted out. Scavenger?"

The Earth commander nodded. "As everyone's aware by now, the solar tower under construction here on Earth was toppled shortly after coming online. No human lives were lost thankfully, and the only Transformer casualty was Sentinel Maximus. He's being repaired as we speak."

"One advantage of a combat frame," Rollout joked, sparking a smile from Knock Out.

"The cause of the damage was a combination of high-yield ordinance and modified plant-based spores," Astroscope explained, ignoring his fellow Mini-Con's comment. "The spores affected several portions of the tower and one of its support struts, eating away at the materials used. Heavy assault by missiles were enough to demolish it afterwards."

"We're lucky it seems." Starscream leaned back. "Has anyone come forward to claim responsibility for the attack?"

"No one yet, but this has all the earmarks of a well-prepared terrorist strike." Franklin gave an uneasy grimace. The armed forces and various departments, especially Defense and Homeland, were already going on with meetings nobody really wanted to attend but had to. He could almost hear the jokes about "military intelligence" starting up again. "I wouldn't rule out al Qaeda; anyone associated with the West is an enemy to them, no matter what planet they came from."

Checkpoint shook his head. "The payload was delivered with a remote-operated SR-71 modified with Cybertronian tech. I doubt they'd be able to get their hands on both, or use it that easily."

"Whoever did it, we've increased our levels of military preparedness." The Air Force colonel gave a determined expression. "This happened once. It won't happen again."

"Agreed. Our first order of business is figuring out who's responsible. Once that's done, we deal with them." Grimlock gave a satisfied grunt as he heard Optimus speak. "Second order of business is to rebuild that tower, and make certain we can counter those spores."

"Whoever did it definitely had Transformer help." A small bit of footage came up on monitors as they rose up before the gathered Transformers. Rodimus elaborated, "We got a shot of six Transformers in control of the jet and a trio of semis. Positive IDs on all of them; the Speed Chaser and Demolition Teams."

"I'd bet a canister of Energon crystals they were working with Dualor." Sparkplug's optics narrowed. "Armorhide mentioned him having support on Earth."

"And I'd bet ten canisters of Energon crystals that Brushguard had a hand in those spores." Flamewar frowned disapprovingly. "It was always his style."

"We weren't able to track them far though; they disappeared from the sensors right after they left New Mexico. We got a brief glimpse of them somewhere between the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean before we lost them again." Rodimus vented a sigh. "We've already got word of where they disappeared to NORAD and the USN, but don't count on a miracle."

"Any good news?" Jetfire spoke up.

"Fortunately, we were lucky enough to obtain a sample of the spores." More data appeared on the monitors as Astroscope took center stage again. "They don't harm organics thankfully, and a simple silicon spray is enough to protect us from them. I've already begun treating everyone here with it."

"And once we can gather up and scavenge enough materials from the wreckage, we can rebuild the tower." Roadblock gave his student a proud look as Ironhide promised, "But I'm definitely modifying the design some."

"Rebuilt tower or no, our priority lies with..." Those based on Earth gave small glimpses out of sight. Scavenger's optics narrowed. "Looks like we've got our terrorists. Patching this in."

The monitors upon the table once more shifted.

* * *

Upon a monitor screen on the _Axalon_ sat a man behind a desk, clad in a deep blue uniform with a long red cape trailing down behind his back. The man's face was obscured by a mask of similar color to the uniform, a pair of malevolent, fiery eyes underneath. Behind the man rested a set of long black flags, a red emblem emblazoned both upon them and the man's uniform.

"Citizens of the world, mark this day well. Those of you who remember me know the power and might that I commanded against you long ago. That is but a shade of the power my organization now commands!"

* * *

"Thanks to the technology now granted to the world by our visitors from the stars, the Transformers, we have been revived, stronger and more powerful than before!"

Within her office, Beller narrowed her eyes; she knew there was something she didn't trust about those machines.

* * *

"The damage done at the solar tower is merely a taste of what will befall you, should you not bow to our demands."

General Abernathy reached out to a telecomm and pressed a single button, only crisply ordering, "Get me Franklin and Faireborn."

* * *

"Sounds like we have exactly what we've been hoping for," said a smooth, crisp voice with a British accent. "We'll prepare ourselves immediately, Agent Simmons. Good day."

* * *

"Don't bother looking to your governments or militaries to protect you, you simpering fools." Optimus's optics started to go from their usual azure to a furious light blue as the man continued to hiss, "Nothing can protect you from the crushing jaws of COBRA!"

The message cut out. Those gathered looked to the Autobot leader as he simply raised his head and looked upon the gathered mass around him. One could almost, just barely, pick up a twinge of fury in his voice. "We have a job to do."

* * *

"COBRA." Diana viciously spat the word as she muted the television before her, the CNN reporters now excitedly covering the unexpected announcement. "There's something I hoped to never hear again."

"I've never even heard of it," Kicker murmured.

"It was before your time." Diana took in Stella, Misha and Kicker before amending, "All your times. A little before mine too, so don't feel too bad. It's a terrorist organization, caused a lot of trouble back in the eighties. They didn't get mentioned much on the news after '86...mainly trials for captured members of the organization. I don't know much else myself beyond that." She then sat up. "Fortunately, we have a way to find out. TACHI."

Stella and Misha both watched in surprise while Kicker's face remained blank as the form of a woman appeared out of thin air. She was semi-transparent, resembling a Japanese woman in her late twenties. She wore a uniform that immediately made Stella think of a flight attendant. When she spoke, it was with a polite voice. "Yes Dr. Masters. How may I help you?"

"See what the records have on the COBRA organization, clearance blue, voice code Athena."

"Checking records now, it should be only a minute." The semi-transparent woman noticed the look of surprise on the visitors' faces. "Miss Holley? Miss Miramond? Is something troubling you?"

"Sorry, this is new for me." Stella gave her an uneasy look. "You're a...hologram?"

"Yes ma'am, and I apologize if I startled you." The holographic woman bowed her head politely. "Tactical Advanced Computerized Holographic Interface. TACHI, for short. I'm an artificially intelligent, holographic avatar for Autobase Earth's computer core. It was thought that this would be easier than the alternatives. My form was chosen as a result of the acronym; a tachi is a small Japanese sword."

"So you aren't really here." Misha glanced over the hologram appraisingly.

"In part, yes. But please, no touching the holographic field. Any disruption, and it could shut down." TACHI turned away, then gave a small nod and gestured to the muted television. "Search results complete."

The screen immediately shifted from the live coverage to a readout of data, earmarked with NSA notices and showing the COBRA emblem in the upper left corner.

* * *

"In the late seventies, we began to get wind of a growing organization on US soil called 'COBRA'. Based on our intelligence reports, it started in the late seventies, based in Springfield Missouri and funded by a number of pyramid schemes. It went mostly ignored by the Carter administration until the first attack came in December of 1979. When Reagan came into office, he directed authorities in the military to create a task force specifically designed to counter COBRA as a portion of the Combat Applications Group."

"The GI Joe team." Franklin looked up from the file to his commanding officer proudly. "If I remember right, you were involved in the organization yourself sir."

"I was the original field commander, and later the overall commanding officer." Abernathy confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice. He leaned back in his chair and looked at a photo of the past, a wistful expression crossing his face. "Unfortunately, by the time we got off the ground, COBRA had enough of a foothold globally that it became all but impossible to get rid of. We finally managed a massive strike against a base of theirs in the Himalayas with the assistance of Soviet and Chinese authorities. Most of their command officers were killed or captured, and a large number of grunt troops surrendered willingly. Those with US citizenship were tried, the rest sent back to their native countries for similar treatment. The unit was decommissioned, and we all hoped that COBRA was destroyed forever, or at the very least, crippled."

"If only that were true." The monitor displaying Scavenger's visage looked upon the two officers bitterly. "Who escaped the assault?"

"Only a few select members of their central command, our hissing friend among them." The Army general narrowed his eyes bitterly, but allowed himself a confident grin. "Fortunately, we've had people keeping their eyes out for them ever since."

The door to his office opened, allowing another to enter. She was a tall woman with brown hair, the chevrons on her green uniform identifying her rank as Captain and a briefcase in her right hand, her walk one of confidence before she stopped and gave a polite salute. Franklin was clearly surprised; she couldn't be older than her mid-twenties. "My apologies for being late General."

"No need." Abernathy rose from his seat and shook hands warmly with the young woman. "Colonel Michael Franklin, Scavenger, this is Captain Marissa Faireborn, Army Intelligence."

Franklin offered his hand, quirking an eyebrow at the surname. "I studied under a Lieutenant Colonel Dashiell Faireborn at West Point."

"My father," the young captain confirmed with a conspiratorial smile. "Both of my parents served with the Joe team; they married after it was decommissioned, and my birth followed soon after. I've been following in their footsteps since then, in more ways than one." She opened the briefcase as she continued on with the briefing. "Based on our intelligence, the vast majority of the command structure of the COBRA organization is either dead or no longer operating in any active capacity." She pulled out a set of three files. "These three are the only ones left, their unofficial 'triumvirate'; our masked friend, known only as COBRA Commander, is one of them. The other two remaining members are James McCullen XXIV, a Scottish arms dealer otherwise known as 'Destro', and Baroness Anastasia DeCobray, an aristocrat from Eastern Europe. They've been off the radar for years, and may have rejoined the organization; McCullen would work with anyone who paid him well enough, and DeCobray has seen enough to have enmity with most major governments, including ours." She turned to the monitor screen on the wall. "I've made certain these files have been made available to Autobase; something tells me your government will want to take action as well given what we've discovered."

Scavenger nodded gravely. "Any information on where they've been operating from?"

"Based on what little we have and information you've been able to gather, we have a fair idea." She withdrew another file and opened it, prompting a hiss of recognition from Abernathy.

"COBRA Island." The general nodded. "Makes sense - we tried invading it several times with little result. No doubt they've enhanced their defenses."

"Enough to block a full-scale assault, yes." The captain then produced one last thing from her briefcase, a small listing of officers. "But I feel a small strike force might be enough to get us in. I already have some candidates lined up."

"With all due respect captain, we've also been giving this some consideration." The three turned to the Autobot commander. "This organization has Transformers working with it, and has utilized Transformer technology against all of us. I've discussed this with my superiors; we want in, and we have a team of our own set to go."

"Isn't there something in the Cybertron Accord about non-interference in Earth-based conflicts?" Abernathy asked.

"There's a clause that allows for them to be involved should they be directly attacked," Franklin admitted, somewhat reluctantly. "On that premise, any captured enemy combatants would be turned in to planet-side authorities. They might have attacked a joint project, but we have full jurisdiction over all non-Transformer COBRA agents."

The general allowed himself a small smile. "If working with the Transformers means we finally put these nutcases to bed, then I'm all for it. Faireborn, pick your team. Scavenger, send all the troops you want."

Scavenger nodded, his face mirroring Abernathy's. "Rendezvous point?"

"MacDill Air Force Base in Florida. We'll keep an eye out for you."

* * *

Brawl growled as he replayed the earlier broadcast. "Sniveling little worm, all talk. I say we go to Earth and squish this little fleshling; they might just thank us for it."

Starscream leaned forward in his seat, hands steepled in front of a mirthless smile. "As tempting as that sounds Brawl, I can't allow it. We haven't signed the Cybertron Accord just yet, and I don't want to risk such an assault."

"Besides, we're better off doing something like that with a lot of intel, and we don't have much of that." Wreckage kept an optic on his grumbling fellow aide as he turned to his leader. "Creepy thing about the little maggot; he sounded kinda like you."

"I've noticed that." The blue and grey Raptor laid his arms upon his desk. "If it helps either of you to feel any better, Optimus Prime is most likely preparing his own counterstrike against him. I doubt very much he'll take an attack on us very lightly."

* * *

"I want the _Hyperion_ prepped for launch." The fury was barely contained within Prime's voice as he marched down the hall towards his office, members of his inner circle following close behind. Both commanders of the Wreckers and Dinobots, as well the deputy commander, were actually hard pressed on keeping up with the Matrix bearer's fast pace for once. "Magnus, Grimlock, tell your teams to prepare for combat. Contact Omega Supreme as well; we're going to..."

"Optimus, hold on a tic!" Jetfire rushed up behind his commander just as the group entered Prime's office. "Don't you think you're overreacting here?"

The blue of the Autobot leader's optics had never before looked so cold, or as close to a burning white. "Overreacting would be me heading there myself with an army of Omega Sentinels at my back. This is a counterstrike. Thanks to this petty tyrant, all that we've worked for with humanity for the last year will have been wiped away and forgotten."

"And if we charge in there, guns blazing, we might just do more damage." Ultra Magnus's gaze remained focused on his commanding officer. "Optimus, I understand your frustration. But a full scale invasion won't solve anything."

A frustrated grunt. "This not invasion Magnus, this pest control. Humans clear out snakes everyday, why we not do different?"

"These are still lives we're talking about Grimlock." Checkpoint admonished the Dinobot commander exasperatedly, holding his ground at the glare thrown at him. "Would you like it if something more than ten times your size came along and smashed you?"

"Me not one to get smashed up..." came the retort.

"Enough." The gathered Autobots turned as their leader collected himself, anger ebbing. He glanced over at the silver Autobot. "Jazz...what's your opinion?"

The special operative hummed softly. "Magnus is right; us goin' in guns a-blazin' would probably make things a lot worse. Can't fault you for wantin' to do it, but we'd be better off findin' another way."

"Scavenger's assembling a team already for a joint operation. Let them have a try," the Security Director helpfully pointed out.

Optimus nodded. "You're right. Thank you, all of you." He turned back to the silver mech. "We can at least give them a better chance. Jazz, I want you to go to Earth yourself. Take the space bridge, and lead that team."

Grimlock eyed his commander uneasily. "Me still prefer keep ship ready, just in case."

"Do it."

The various Autobots exited, leaving Optimus almost alone within his office. He sat upon his desk, looking towards the only other remaining Transformer. "Disappointing, aren't I? All the wisdom of the ages, and here I am, faster to fire a gun than use my head...like some 'turbo-revving young punk' like Kup would say."

"None of us is above righteous fury, young one," Vector Prime admitted. "While I also think your first suggestion was a bit more than necessary, I will not argue your reasoning. We were attacked, and our attackers connected us to them by claiming our assistance. Clearly, that is an exaggeration, but not an absolute lie."

"And people will believe them."

"Such is their choice. You say so yourself; freedom is the right of all sentient beings. That includes the freedom to make mistakes, to put faith in false beliefs. Many chose to follow Megatron, and many of them have chosen to leave him. And many humans may choose to believe that we are assisting these terrorists; many more will believe otherwise, for better or worse. You must allow them that choice."

Optimus nodded, his own spark telling him the same thing deep within. As a smile crossed his hidden face, he turned to his mentor. "Thank you."

"Do not thank me yet." The ancient Transformer's voice grew grim. "Consider this for a moment; how did COBRA manage to power their fusion of Cybertronian and human technology? Only Energon would be enough to safely power the Cybertronian components, nothing else."

"And we know that Energon ore can be found on Earth."

"How did they refine it then? Energon ore can only be used safely if refined. This means they most likely found it in the form of crystalline cubes or as a liquid form...and I'm more inclined to believe the latter."

The Autobot leader crossed his arms and looked upon his mentor with a wary optic. "I'm starting to think you suspect something Vector Prime."

"I suspect something very grave indeed." The ancient beckoned to the door. "Skyfall remains here on Cybertron, correct?"

"Yes..." Optimus's optics widened. "Does this have something to do with his quest?"

The elder Prime's voice was tinged with clear sorrow. "A great deal."

* * *

A long time ago, almost a lifetime in fact, he had been little more than a businessman attempting to get by. His company was profitable, his business booming; he was living the American Dream, just as so many had wished to do!

Then the American Dream was shattered - the government had ruled his business as illegal and shut it down. At the same time his brother, a good and virtuous man, lost everything; his own business, a hospital for veterans, was burned to the ground, an accident. The courts ruled that it was insurance fraud; his brother was ruined, turned to drink, and ultimately died in an automobile accident.

It was at that point that he chose to act against that corruption the only way he could - he would destroy the current system through extortion and terrorism, wipe away the wreckage of the old world and make a new one, squeeze the life out of both East and West like a cobra coiled about the world. He met others of like mind, marshaled them, and created an army feared across the globe.

Now, however, he wished he'd done it himself.

"You have made a grave error in judgment. Those few who stand against the Transformers will be more likely to see us as an equal threat, and the Transformers themselves are certain to strike against us."

The man known only as COBRA Commander turned to his associate. "I find your lack of faith disturbing, Destro."

"I do not place faith in acts of foolishness." The arms dealer's silver helmet glistened in the artificial lighting as he made a small gesture of respect. "As useful as the organic technology we salvaged from Tibet has been in our recent attack, our enemies most likely have developed a countermeasure."

"Whether they have or not, I doubt they have had a chance to implement it." The Commander turned away from his associates and looked upon a map mounted on the wall. "Hundreds of countries, thousands of buildings, billions of people. We could strike anywhere, at anyplace, at any time."

"Whereas they would only need to strike here." The Baroness stood beside Destro, much as she always had throughout the years. "Even with your recent preparations Commander, we do not have the means to prevent them from such actions. They have munitions, weapons, far greater experience with technologies we are only beginning to decipher, not to mention a spacecraft. Our troops are limited, our equipment just as much, and while I have never had stock in our allies, we are all that remains of Command. I profess no great love for our fallen and departed allies, but even with the missiles Destro and I smuggled here, we do not command an advantage."

"Would you prefer we return to the shadows for another twenty years, Baroness?" The Commander turned to them, fire in his eyes. "That green-thumbed robot is much more the scientist than Mindbender, the smaller ones more than an able replacement for the Dreadnoks, Firefly, the Crimson Twins...even that traitorous ninja. With or without them, we even have our marvelous energy stockpile, as well as the resources to hold this world for ransom." He turned away from them and exited the room. "It may be twenty years late, but we shall do what we set out to do. And nothing shall stand in our way."

The door closed behind him.

"Twenty years clearly haven't changed him. He is as arrogant and foolish as ever."

"It may not have changed him, but it has changed us." The Baroness gently ran her hands down her side, taking stock of her physique. "It has changed me."

A hand gently brushed against her cheek. "You are as beautiful and exotic as the day we met, Ana."

"Perhaps...but not as young. What good is conquering the world if we cannot keep it forever? Hate and ambition have taken us far James, but neither of us has much left anymore."

The hand that brushed her cheek now drew her close, another holding her tightly. "We have one another. That is all that matters."

* * *

The doors to his laboratory slid open, and Brushguard grimaced as he prepped his chemicals. "I was promised peace for my work, COBRA Commander. Thus far, I've been interrupted all too often."

"Your work is only at my discretion," the human hissed in reply. "You have more spores ready, correct?"

"Yes, more than enough for your little plan." The xenobotanist rolled his optics at the human's petty interests. "Fully weaponized; I've sent them on to the missile bays. However, the spores are useless against organic matter; you cannot kill someone with them directly. They do nothing to glass or stone; only metal and plastics, and knowing my people, they have already developed a counteragent."

"Eliminating your people is not my concern." Beneath his hood, the Commander smiled. "They will be unable to fight against me thanks to the efforts made by your small friends, while the rest of the world learns its folly. They worried far too much about those backward fools in the Middle East; they gave no thought to those of us with true vision, unhindered by religion."

Brushguard rumbled softly within his frame, still unimpressed. "Yes, but don't expect the world to lay down and die. The last employer I had made that mistake...and he was a failure for millions of years. I doubt you have that long."

"I won't need that long. And if these spores do not do their appointed jobs, you will be joining your Transformer friend in deep freeze." He turned on his heel and exited with a sweep of his cape.

The Decepticon watched him go, indifferent to his employer's bravado, before returning to his chemicals.

* * *

"And you honestly believe that?" Beller all but snarled at her guest. "He said quite clearly that they had help from those robots...and the others have more than confirmed that, Secretary Keller."

"Yes, but why bother going to all that trouble to blow up something they worked so hard to get built, Senator?" The secretary countered her anger with a calm voice. "We know the Transformers are factionalized; hell, infighting's why the Decepticons haven't signed that treaty yet."

"Are you certain of that? All we have is what they've told us."

"Considering what happened in Indianapolis last year, I'm willing to believe 'em." Keller rose to his feet. "Senator...Josie. I've seen your recent campaigns; you've been calling yourself a 'Circuit Breaker' for weeks now. What's gotten into you? Why are you so set against these things?"

A hard stare. "I'm defending this country John. The President declared a war on terrorism; these things are more dangerous than some fanatic in Iran with a bomb strapped to his chest and a Koran in his hand. You know that. What's stopping them from invading?"

"Why haven't they invaded already? They've had interstellar travel for longer than we've had a civilization; bullets don't hurt them, EMPs don't do much damage. The only thing we have that can hurt them are sabot rounds and nukes, and those don't matter if they hit us from orbit or we all die in the process. If they wanted to invade, why bother asking us for a base, or drawing up that treaty? Why bother asking us to help them, and offering ways to help us in return?" He stifled a sigh as he looked upon her unflinching face and gathered up his materials. "Go with Occam's Razor or that duck thing or whatever you like, but until I've got good reason to think otherwise, I can't recommend to the President that they leave. Good day."

Beller watched the secretary go with a frustrated scowl. Yet another blind fool toeing the party line. It was just as she'd heard across the board; one side had lost its nerve, the other its mind. With a heavy sigh, she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Why couldn't they understand the clear dangers of associating with those robots? Was she the only one who saw them for what they truly were, just machines without souls or life?

She then heard her door open again and, with the briefest of smiles, looked up expecting her aide. Her eyes returned to narrow slits very quickly. "Who the hell are you?"

"A fellow civil servant Senator." Standing before her was a tall man, possibly Hispanic but definitely Caucasian, in a dark, crisp suit. "My name is Simmons. I'm with Sector Seven."

"Never heard of it."

Simmons gave a wide smile one usually saw on slick businessmen. "You have now."

* * *

"I'm a little more than surprised to see you...the both of you in fact," Skyfall admitted as he looked upon the two Primes. "I'd think you had greater problems than us."

"Unfortunately, I feel you and Landquake may be connected to our recent troubles on Earth." Vector Prime glanced about the cramped control center for the _Flash Frenzy_. "May we sit?"

The archivist invited them to sit as his two associates eyed them warily. Overcast finally spoke. "Optimus, if you've got something to tell us, you'd better. These two are getting really anxious."

"I'm just as in the dark as they are," the younger Prime confessed. "And just as eager to figure out what's going on."

Vector Prime cast his gaze upon the two similarly-colored Transformers. "Skyfall, Landquake. Both of you have long sought reasons for your unique abilities, your callings towards your origins. I am saddened to say that I hold some of the answers to your questions...and have done so for a very long time." He rose to his feet and began to pace. "As we all know, long ago, Primus created thirteen Transformers to aid in his struggle against Unicron, of whom I am the only remaining representative. When the Quintessons came and began manufacturing the current generation, I was instructed to begin efforts towards giving them life; the Quintessons needed to be removed from this world, lest Primus be unable to defeat his ancient foe. In the process however, he seized upon an opportunity; five inactive bodies were each given life and unique abilities all their own, their creations far apart from one another, and spread across the cosmos." He halted, and turned to the duo. "The two of you are of those five."

Both Skyfall and Landquake looked to one another in surprise, then to Vector Prime. It was the Decepticon who spoke first. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I was forbidden from doing so. Were I not, I would have informed you sooner...and for my lack of guidance, I apologize."

"Too late to change it now." Overcast looked to his two associates, who begrudgingly agreed. "So do you know where the others are?"

"Unfortunately, no. At least, not all of them." A hologram emerged from his chest, depicting a red and blue Transformer bearing the Autobot emblem, carrying grey Energon weapons. "One of your spiritual brothers was forged during the war with the Quintessons; he is the eldest of you, named Breakaway. He possesses the ability to regenerate his fellow Transformers using Energon, much like a CR chamber. His task was to safeguard a store of liquid Energon, elsewhere in space and time, and remain hidden until it was needed. I did not know where he went at the time, merely sent him on his way."

"That's changed, hasn't it?" Landquake turned to him directly. "You know where he is now."

"Yes. And while now may not be the correct time, we no longer have the luxury of restoring him to us then." He turned to Optimus and explained, "I believe that, based on recent events, he is on Earth. Liquid Energon does not need to be refined due to its purity; COBRA could have simply siphoned that Energon and used it as fuel for their Cybertronian technology."

"That would make sense." All optics turned to the lone Decepticon among them, one hand on his chin. "While it is possible for Energon to form on other worlds, we've noticed a high concentration of useable Energon on Earth, so high that its radiation has caused at least one mutation in the human population. If Energon were planted there, that could very easily have helped to promote its creation throughout the planet...and planting it that long ago would produce results like this. But would this 'Breakaway' willingly help COBRA?"

Vector Prime shook his head. "Most likely he is in stasis, or otherwise incapacitated. He was tasked with guarding that reserve, not giving it out to whomever asked for it."

"Which means we may have ourselves a rescue mission." Overcast stood up with a grim smile. "What are we waiting for?"

* * *

The yellow and black Mini-Con gave out a low whistle as he looked up upon the Transformer before him, the cryogenic stasis leaving a newly-created layer of ice over its red and blue armor. "You gotta hand it to these humans Oil Slick, they know how to run an operation. Of course, they aren't us...but they're still pretty good."

The Mini-Con looked from the frozen Transformer to his associates, a bulkier Mini-Con with armor of varying shades of green and a thinner one colored red and purple.

"Don't be too impressed with 'em Rocket." Oil Slick quickly checked the door into their chamber. "I don't think the head man's thinking straight; taking photographs of this guy and claiming that he's been helping them is a bad idea."

"I don't know, I think it's got merit." Their third walked up to the frozen robot and pointed to the Autobot emblem on its chest. "Most humans'll spot that big friendly Autobot emblem, assume they were duped, and turn against the Autobots en masse. Our big cousins might even decide to leave."

"And where does that leave us Grindor? Whether or not the Autobots leave, they're still gonna come charging after our new friends."

Dirt Rocket gave a dismissive gesture with one hand. "We can delay 'em long enough. All the dirt we've gathered, we can get enough politicians in our pockets to slow down things real nice."

"And if our friend Mister Blue-Hood decides to do to us what he's done to the big guy, well..." The monster truck smashed a fist hard into a nearby wall, leaving a sizeable dent. "We know how to deal with that."

* * *

Native and non-native Floridian birds took flight from the grasses of MacDill Air Force Base as jet fighters took off for training or patrol runs while other military aircraft landed for repairs and other essential routines. Part of the base had been used for military purposes during the Spanish-American War, but it wasn't until 1939 that it was finally declared a military installation, just within city limits of Tampa. During World War II, MacDill was used to train aircrews for overseas deployment to various war theaters after anti-submarine operations were completely turned over to the Navy. Presently, it served as home for US Central Command, US Special Operations Command, and the NOAA hurricane hunter aircraft fleet.

The heavy spinning of the UH-60 Black Hawk's blades slowed as it landed upon the airstrip after receiving clearance from the command tower. With a heavy thud, the utility helicopter's hatch slid open, allowing Faireborn and Franklin to depart into the bright Florida sun. "Been a long time since I've seen proper action captain." The colonel smiled as the two walked down the tarmac, carrying a heavy duffel on his back and looking about the base. Memories of younger times as an Airman drifted back to him as they climbed into a waiting Jeep. "It feels good to be back."

"Don't enjoy yourself too much sir." As the two approached a nearby hangar, a squad of soldiers in Army Combat Uniforms, including one Air Force Combat Controller with the signature scarlet beret, was waiting for them and immediately stood to attention at the pair's arrival. What somewhat surprised Faireborn was the age of one of the squad members, looking barely out of high school. She brushed it aside as she and the colonel hopped out of their vehicle, having garnered the same reaction from others, Franklin among them. "Soldiers; as you are all aware, COBRA has decided to come out of hiding again. In the fine tradition of Special Operations Group Delta, we will be deployed to deal with them once and for all. You've all been briefed by now, so feel free to ask questions."

One officer, a tall man with captain's bars on his fatigues, stepped forward and gave a quick salute. "No offense sir, but we seem to be going in with very little in terms of armaments. Heavy weapons are fine, but I think we'd be better off with a larger assault force."

Franklin nodded. "Not everyone for this team is gathered, Captain Lennox; we have arrivals incoming as we speak." He checked his watch before turning about as a bright beam of light lanced down nearby. "As for large...they qualify."

The beam faded, and a small group of Transformers stood assembled before them - five Autobots, as marked by the faction symbols adorning their bodies, and a trio of Mini-Cons. The group collected itself as its apparent leader stepped forward. "You must be Colonel Franklin. Name's Jazz." The silver Autobot knelt down and offered one of his pointed black 'fingers' to the man. "Optimus Prime sends his best...in more ways than one."

"I'll thank him for it when this is over." Franklin took the offered digit as Faireborn and the gathered soldiers looked over the other seven new arrivals, awe obvious in the squad's faces while curiosity flitted through the Transformers. One of the men almost immediately started fingering the cross around his neck while others exchanged surprised observations in whispers, even though the newcomers had excellent auditory capabilities.

Overhaul surveyed the gathered human troops and the waiting CV-22 Osprey unhappily. Despite himself, he began to envy the fliers - Bulkhead, Talon and Wirejack wouldn't need to be in that cramped thing with him, Jazz and the Race Team. All they had to worry about was not crashing into the Hercules and act as a line of defense for the rest of the strike team.

Still, if this was the price to pay to keep Brushguard from causing more trouble...then so be it.

* * *

"You know the same as us these things are a threat; my group was meant to safeguard against incursions like this, made for just such a situation. We have allies; we can take out their ship and pen them up inside their little mountain nice and easy." Simmons's lips curled into a smile. "And just think of what that'll do...you might just make Clinton rethink her election bid."

Beller considered the man's words. "Fine. Do it."

* * *

"And they're away." Tow-Line spun on his chair to face his superior. "Joint strike force is en route."

"That's one less concern." Rodimus turned back to the twin holo-avatars before him. "You were saying?"

"Just saying that if things got bad enough, we could raise _Atlantis_ easily, provide support."

"Not unless necessary Evac; you still don't have your drive systems fully operational yet. Besides, we have enough suspicions against us; if they find out about the big ship they associate with Greek myth, we'd have much bigger problems."

The Earth-born Autobot shook his head. "I hate keeping this from them. I'd prefer open honesty."

"And we'd all prefer to avoid a panic. They're already anxious about my ship; two would -"

"Rodimus, we've got an energy buildup!" Cliffjumper's voice sounded unusually worried as he skimmed through the screen. "It's coming from Earth; signature suggests some sort of beam weapon!"

As his two fellow commanders looked in surprise, Rodimus rose to his feet and gave the only order he could. "Raise shields!"

* * *

To an observer on Earth, nothing would appear amiss, or out of the ordinary. But in a flash, that changed as a violent green blast of energy surged upwards, six beams of light coalescing into one and striking out into space. With surprising speed, unabated by the Earth's atmosphere, the beam blasted into the _Axalon_, impacting with its shields. Energy crackled over the shield violently, buckling and straining them as the defensive measure struggled to hold back the attack.

Finally, after two short seconds, the shields shattered, and what remained of the beam blasted into the ship itself, causing it to rock violently in space.

* * *

"Rodimus! Rodimus, do you read me?!"

Static was Scavenger's only reply, and the elder warrior slammed a massive hand upon a nearby wall. "Sideswipe, get me a direct line to Cybertron, now!"

The young Autobot swiftly went to work as the command center's doors slid open, permitting the university professor to enter at a worried run. "What just happened?"

"The _Axalon_'s been attacked." Scavenger turned to Diana, his face grim. "We don't know who did it or how, but that isn't the problem. We've been using that ship as a relay between this base, Cybertron and _Atlantis_. Without it, we can't contact Optimus, or get in touch with the team heading after COBRA."

"You don't suppose they did it?"

"Not a chance." Nightbeat looked at the woman even as he manipulated the controls before him. "We've got a remote link-up with _Axalon_'s computers. Whatever hit them wasn't firing from COBRA Island; the origin point was too far north, somewhere like Great Britain."

Before Diana could even begin to speculate how or why someone in England would attack the Autobot ship, warning sirens went off.

"Communications are jammed!" Sideswipe's fingers flew over the control pad, trying to circumvent the jamming. "We've got satellites in orbit interfering with communications; we're cut off!"

As screen after screen showed nothing but static, Scavenger's optics narrowed angrily. Whatever was going on, he didn't enjoy it one bit.

* * *

"Bulkhead to Autobase Earth, come in! Bulkhead to Autobase Earth, respond!" The veteran Autobot swore loudly; were he in his bipedal mode, a grimace would be clear upon his face. "Still nothing. No _Axalon_, no Autobase, no communications at all."

The massive green helicopter, burdened by his weapons pack, flew escort a distance in front of the tilt rotor aircraft, flanked by the younger fliers. While it may have made more sense to allow either jet fighter to lead, Bulkhead had the greater experience.

"What could've happened? I mean, if Rodimus had to leave the planet for something, he'd have told us."

"Exactly Talon; something's up. Wirejack, you got any ideas?"

The F-14 to the Osprey's left waggled his wings slowly, indicating his own anxiety. "Nothing sir, sorry."

"What about _Atlantis_? Can't we contact them, find out what's going on?"

"They're under several thousand feet of water lass - no way can our communicators get that deep." The chopper muttered a few choice words, then opened another comm.-line. "Jazz, this is Bulkhead; something's wrong."

* * *

Within the cargo plane sat a small unit of soldiers, nestled among them were the three members of the Race Team, their two ground-based Autobot allies in vehicle mode due to the confined space. While no one could call it a tight squeeze for the humans, it was a bit of discomfort for the Solstice and Humvee to have their tires locked down so as to avoid them shifting and injuring someone by accident. A few of the soldiers were talking in one corner, their laughter helping to alleviate tension within the crowded cargo hold as Jazz joined in. In another, Franklin and Faireborn were talking quietly; Mirage couldn't make out the words, and expected that he wasn't meant to.

The diminutive F-1 racer's optics quickly found themselves on a human soldier seated next to him, clutching his M4 Carbine tightly with one hand with a photograph in the other. "Are you alright?"

The young man looked up at him in surprise. "S-Sorry...just nervous is all. First deployment."

"That explains why you're so quiet. Got a name?"

"Sam. Private Sam Witwicky," he answered hesitantly.

"Mirage." He leaned back against the plane. "So what are you doing in the military Sam? Raising money for college?"

"Something like that, yeah." Sam relaxed, just a little more comfortable. "My dad's idea. He served in Vietnam under the draft; didn't do anything exciting, just repairing jeeps mostly. He figured the military was a good idea. I didn't argue." He fingered the photo tenderly. "Wish I had. Don't even know how I ended up here; you're supposed to be at least a specialist to end up on Special Ops missions like this. I'm just a Private."

Mirage gave the photograph a quick study; a slender woman with long dark hair, roughly the private's age. "Scared huh?"

"Yeah...but I won't tell them that." Sam jerked his head in the direction of the other soldiers, who were laughing at a joke told by the Solstice. "They've seen it all; got back from Iraq just before all this happened."

Mirage nodded. "If it makes you feel any better Sam, they're just as scared as you are. Slag, I'm just as scared as you are. The only difference between them and you is that they aren't going to let that dominate them; que sera sera, as you humans say, and there isn't much you can do about it."

Sam looked at him curiously. "What about you?"

"I made a promise to myself a while ago to stop hiding away while other people were hurt." The Mini-Con gave the human a proud look. "No matter what happens, I'm keeping that promise, as well my team and the Autobots. We're with you guys, period."

"'Raj, colonel, captains, hate ta break up the powwows but we got a problem." He turned as Jazz spoke to him and the two human leaders. "We've lost contact with our base and ship. No idea what's goin' down."

"COBRA?" Franklin suggested.

Faireborn shook her head. "Doubtful. If they had the means, they would have attacked the Autobots directly when they attacked the tower. Something else is at work here."

As those gathered puzzled over that idea, the plane's intercom sounded. "All passengers strap in; we have incoming, I repeat, we have incoming."

* * *

"I see 'em," Bulkhead reported. "Four jets, all looking like those A-10s the US uses, but with the wrong paint jobs and COBRA markings. Talon, Wirejack, keep flanking positions and let me handle these snakes; I'll give 'em a taste of what us Autobots can do!"

The two younger Transformers held back as their elder sped up, the thrusters on his pack firing off at full burn. Two pairs of missile launchers on both weapons pylons came online as the incoming jets opened fire, 30mm bullets hitting his dull green armor and leaving tiny dents.

Without giving his assault a second thought and despite the briefest of flinches, the elder warrior transformed, the weapons pack switching position from his ventral area to his back and rotor blades forming a melee weapon in his right hand. As the rounds continued to impact against his armor, he returned fire, sending a small volley of Hydra 70 rocket lookalikes towards his incoming opponents.

One of the missiles hit home, blasting off a wing and prompting its pilot to eject. A second collided with the engines of another plane, causing it to explode brilliantly. Its pilot wasn't quite as lucky. The remaining two planes continued undamaged as the Autobot armed his other weapons and opened fire.

Suddenly, a trio of missile blasts impacted against his back. His visual sensors quickly logged another presence below; a trio of Mini-Cons with aquatic vehicle modes were firing upon him from the ocean's surface. How he'd missed them before, he had no idea.

"Two bogeys down, two more incoming, and they've got Mini-Con support." Bulkhead turned back to the plane. "Can you two...?"

In seconds, another missile volley blasted the Autobot warrior, causing him to lose sight of the battle. He transformed back to AH-64 Apache form and bombarded the three sea-based Transformers below to little avail, causing them to scatter rather than be properly hit.

"Hang on, I've got something!"

Before Bulkhead could acknowledge Wirejack's message, the older mech's sensors picked up the sound of another pilot ejecting. The unattended plane, meanwhile, fell to the sea, crashing into the waves with a barely visible splash.

"Three down!" came the hacker's whoop, surprise mixed in with his elation. "I've got the last one; Talon, give Bulkhead a hand!"

"Thanks for the support lad, but I've got-" Bulkhead was interrupted as something impacted with his tail, blasting at the connection points linking him to his thruster pack.

"Ye got trouble Autobot, that's what!" the deep brown Mini-Con cackled as he tore at the points with small guns in his arms. "We be havin' none of you on the island!"

Suddenly, the Mini-Con found himself bombarded with a heavy round of bullets, bits of his armor being blasted off and flying away as he clung to Bulkhead's frame. Finally, the force of the attack became too much, and he was torn off, falling back to the sea.

"You okay Bulkhead?"

"Yes, thanks. Good shooting Talon, I...oh my..."

The Apache's sensors were centered on the Mini-Con as he fell, not even aware as the last COBRA jet was defeated, its pilot floating serenely into the sea via a parachute. He watched in amazement as the small Transformer's framework mended itself at a rapid pace, healing its wounds just as it hit the water and transformed, leading its teammates away.

The young femme transformed in astonishment. "Did you see that?"

The shock was clear in Bulkhead's voice. "I did...and I've never seen anything like that before." The attack chopper quickly recovered himself. "Get back to vehicle mode; we're almost to the island. No telling what else they'll throw at us."

* * *

Rodimus stirred aboard the _Axalon_, its emergency lights casting a deep red glow over the command deck. He rose to his feet slowly, testing for damage while working through the diagnostics flooding his CPU. "Cliffjumper, Tow-Line, you two still with me?"

"Barely," answered the ship's communications officer. Tow-Line got to his feet. "What the slag was that?"

"Some sort of particle weapon." Cliffjumper had recovered and was already back at his station, attempting to restart the ship's systems. "No clue how they got it; that tech's way beyond Earth's level."

Rodimus looked about his bridge with an expression both grim and concerned. "We must have missed something."

The doors directly behind him creaked open, allowing Wing Saber and Downshift to slink their way in.

"What just happened?" The ship's pilot quickly went to his console and checked it over. "The systems are fried; I can't activate engines."

"Communications systems are out too." Tow-Line looked back at the crew with a worried expression. "We're dead in space."

Rodimus slumped into his chair, thinking over his options. "Downshift, you're the scientist here. Are we in any danger of falling into Earth's atmosphere?"

"No, we're safe there." The engineer stepped forward, pulling up a fuzzy diagram of the _Axalon_, Earth and moon on the still-operable forward monitor. "We're situated at a stable gravity point between the Earth and its moon, what the humans call a Lagrange point; no chance of us falling onto either object. We'll just start spinning around our own axis instead; won't be a problem thanks to the magnetic locks in our feet, but we won't be able to stop either without power to thrusters."

"And we can't exactly call for help, can we?"

Downshift shook his head. "No sir, sorry. Not right now anyway; I'll see what I can do to repair the ship, but we might not have the needed parts..."

A light tap sounded off around them, and a voice rang out through their speakers. "Anyone online in there?"

In disbelief, Rodimus rose to his feet. "Overcast? Where the scrap are you?!"

"Well, that answers my question!" came the Autobot's voice, static snowing in occasionally. "I'm on the _Flash Frenzy_ with Skyfall and Landquake; turns out there's something they've been looking for on Earth. We just got into the system, tried contacting you for help and didn't get an answer, so we fired off a wire. What happened?"

"Someone on Earth shot at us, that's what happened!"

Rodimus shot Cliffjumper an exasperated look. "Overcast, can you get a signal to Cybertron? We need help out here immediately."

"Easily done; we'll try to tow you out in the meantime and see what we can do about repairs. Hold on."

The five members of the _Axalon_'s crew looked upon one another as they felt a heavy clamp upon their vessel, then began to feel their ship being pulled in one direction. While the Earth appeared no different in their view screen, they could feel it; they were moving away from it. Rodimus smiled to himself; thanks to sheer dumb luck, he'd done it again.

* * *

"It would appear our faith in our new allies was misplaced." Destro frowned as he looked upon a radar screen. "The aircraft is still approaching, as are its Transformer escorts; no doubt they intend to land."

His blue-hooded associate turned to a nearby technician. "Where are our air defense batteries?! That plane should have been shot out of the sky by now!"

The technician gulped. "I...I think there's some kind of computer error; we can't access them sir."

The Commander growled and whipped around to one of his new Transformer allies. "You said that we would be able to deal with any intruders!"

Top Gear's face remained neutral. "We were expecting your troops to be able to provide cover. Clearly we were mistaken; you seem to be lacking in proper maintenance."

The eyes narrowed beneath the mask. He then reached over to a computer screen. "Brushguard! How long until the warheads are ready to launch?"

Barely hidden annoyance was on the scientist's face over the video link. "The warheads are loaded. I'd assume a launch would be possible within the hour."

The eyes relaxed. "Excellent." He then turned to a communications officer and shouted, "Alert the Predators! Have them deal with the invaders!"

Without another word, the black and green F-1 racer spun on his heel and left. Despite the doors sliding shut behind him, he checked to make certain none could hear him and his comrades speak, then turned back to them. "Report."

"Bilge was seen regenerating." Tailslide's voice was carefully neutral. "No doubt they recognized what that meant."

The third member of their party balled his fists angrily. "Just means we'll have to tear 'em all up is all; no way will they get word out then."

"That time may well be already gone Midship." The purple and neon green Mini-Con narrowed his optics. "I shall not repeat the mistakes of Sideways and Nemesis Prime. Besides, our overall task is complete; the Transformer presence on this world will soon be dealt with. Signal the Aqua Raiders to return; it is time we made our departure."

* * *

"Amazing what those Brits can do with a little salvage, huh?" Simmons's dark cheerfulness made the driver uneasy. "That ship of theirs shouldn't be a problem anymore. Now it's just the ones in the mountain."

Beller ignored his tone, but not his words. "Whoever let them put that thing inside a mountain is an idiot and a fool. It's little more than a foothold."

"One with a lot of impressive extraterrestrial tech, Senator. And whether they leave or not, we'll get a nice chunk of it."

Their vehicle halted on the earthen roadway, several more parking alongside it and arming weapons. The familiar sounds of black Apache helicopters and additional ground vehicles sounded out around them. Before them was a large rock face, hiding one of the main entrance points of Autobase Earth.

The modified Mk 19 grenade launcher mounted on one of the customized Advanced Light Strike Vehicles was already loaded with HEDP grenade rounds. Not quite made for targeting rock but then again, nobody really thought to bring dynamite. With an almost gleeful "Knock-knock" from Simmons, the gun opened fire.

The rock face was blasted apart, the hot glitter of heated metal visible beneath. A second, third, and fourth round were fired, revealing more of the metal with each blast and eventually tearing a hole in it.

After that last shot, the radio within the vehicle suddenly came alive. "Earth vehicles, this is Autobase Earth. You are in violation of the Cybertron Accord. Halt this attack and leave immediately."

Before the driver could even comment, Beller reached out and grabbed the radio speaker. "This is Senator Josephine Beller, robot. I never recognized that treaty; now I want to speak to the one in charge."

A different voice went out through the radio receiver. "Senator Beller, this is Diana Masters of the Liaison Council. You didn't vote to approve the treaty, but enough of the other Senators did. That makes it binding under law until the President says otherwise. Now back off before you make a mistake."

Simmons gave Beller an amused look while sticking his hand out and she handed over the mic. "Doc, my people work for the President; we're Sector Seven, and as far as we're concerned, that treaty ended when we found Cybertronian tech in that COBRA jet. Now open up."

No answer came back, but the rock-covered door slid open. As the government agent and the senator allowed themselves triumphant smiles, several more panels within the rock face slid open, the unmistakable ends of automatic guns emerging from them wiping the glee from their faces.

"Those are motion-sensitive." Scavenger stood dead center in the path of the S7 off-road vehicles, Diana standing beside him and pocketing her cell phone. "I wouldn't move too much if I were you."

Beller growled angrily. "What the hell is this?"

"A standoff." The archaeologist stood firm beside her Autobot friend, staring down the barrels of the remaining sabot-loaded cannons. "I don't think I've had the pleasure to meet you before face to face, senator. I've never heard of Sector Seven however."

Simmons gave a cocky grin and rose from his seat. Beller did likewise as he replied, "You never will. Care to come out Doctor?"

"Nope, just fine right here." Diana maintained a neutral voice. "Way I see it, you guys won't be here long anyway."

"We were thinking the same thing. You guys aren't welcome here, plain and simple."

"Does that come directly from the President?" Scavenger's rumbling voice caught the attention of all present. "In case you weren't aware, we're having a little trouble getting word out at the moment, so we can't really confirm or deny that. Something tells me you all might have something to do with it."

The S7 agent simply shrugged. "Not our fault if there's lousy reception out here."

Diana's eyes narrowed as the Autobot commander continued. "We know something's blocking communications. We think you have something to do with it. Why? A chance to play with some toys that don't belong to you?"

"This is personal, robot!" Anger was evident in Beller's voice – she practically spat out the word 'robot'. "I had a brother in Indianapolis when your friends decided to make it a playground last year. He died! That idiot Franklin should have just nuked the lot of you after he found your ship, but instead he negotiated, and now you've been able to help a bunch of terrorists! I won't rest until all of you are scrap metal!"

There was a bit of silence on the scene before Diana spoke again. "Senator, you are making a gross error in judgment, and overstepping your authority. You can't force them to leave, and you can't arrest me or any other human within the base without clear charges."

Despite her anger, the senator was able to curl her lips into a sneer. "And who says that, you?"

"And the Constitution, and precedent. You can't throw treaties aside, and you can't lead an attack against an enemy. Only the President can do that, and the last Senator who struck against a supposed enemy of the state didn't end up too well." An unlady-like snort of contempt, as if remembering something amusing. "Or have you suddenly forgotten about Joe McCarthy?"

"Enough of the history lesson Doc." Simmons maintained his confidence, although he was shaking mentally. "You and the rest of the humans within that thing are gonna leave that base in the next hour. After that, we start taking matters into our own hands. Sector Seven doesn't officially exist; that means we can do whatever we want in the name of national security. Chew on that."

Neither Autobot nor human replied, and the base's entrance door swiftly closed, an inner layer blocking the recent hole.

"They'll come out." The agent leaned against the buggy. "Eventually."

* * *

Propellers now in the 90-degree position, the Osprey lowered its loading ramp, allowing its passengers to disembark under its downwash. As its human occupants filed out, the land-based Transformers emerged upon the rocky beach and rolled up towards the tree line before transforming to stretch out after being cramped in.

"Captain Lennox, take your team out and have them sweep the perimeter." Faireborn readied her own M4 Carbine as she gave orders, checking ammunition with practiced ease. "No splitting up. Maintain radio contact."

"Understood." Without a further word, the group began to move forward into the jungle before them.

As the troops moved out, Faireborn glanced upon Franklin and Mirage. "The good news is that satellite surveillance didn't notice anything on the island itself; that suggests what we're looking for is underground."

"Satellites don't always pick up everything Captain." The yellow F-1 racer disappeared from view briefly, then reappeared a second later. "And I doubt they'd need a cloaking device to disappear in this mess."

The captain studied the Mini-Con, picking up something in his tone. "That aside, you seem to be very worried about that team of Transformers that attacked us."

"The Aqua Raider Team. Before the _Exodus_ launched, they worked with Cannonball, a Cybertronian pirate. But it's not their presence that has us worried, it's what they did."

"The rapid regeneration abilities." Franklin picked up the explanation at Faireborn's confused expression. "We've encountered that before with three other Transformers. If this is anything like the last few times, we could have a lot of trouble."

Mirage nodded. "And Redline could have himself a lot of answers."

The gathered soldiers returned, Lennox at the lead. "We found what look like some automated gun batteries; looks like they're inoperable."

"That's the only explanation I can think of for the lack of air defenses," the AF Tech Sergeant spoke, the African-American's nametag bearing "Epps" as he rolled up his beret and stuffed it into a pocket. "Wish I knew how it happened."

Jazz quickly got onto the close-range frequency. "Think you could find out what's wrong with their system Wire?"

The slate grey Tomcat made a low pass, skimming high above the trees. "I can do it wireless but better if I can find something to hook up to, sir."

"As nice as it would be to have an explanation, our first priority is taking out the base underneath us." Faireborn readied her rifle one more time. "Lennox, you and half of your men with me. The rest of you with Franklin."

"Better let us take point." Overhaul rolled forward, headlights flashing. "No offense, but we can take a lot more punishment than you guys."

She relented with a chuckle and a gesture. "Lead the way."

As they started out, the Autobot fliers overhead, Overhaul in front and Jazz to the rear, a trio of dark shapes jutted about in the foliage, keeping their optics locked on their quarry.

* * *

"Of all the Primus-damned bits of stupidity I've seen...how the slag were they even able to blast the _Axalon_?"

"I don't know. Humans aren't supposed to have particle weapons."

"Well, we can tell them that when we start shooting them without warning."

Evac turned sharply to his subordinate. "That's out of line and you know it."

"Really? They attacked us, unprovoked. We've lost communications with the _Axalon_ AND the Colorado base. What are we going to do, just twiddle our thumbs?" With a tired sigh, Hightail collapsed into one of the control chairs in _Atlantis_'s command center. "This is just like them, you know? For all the great things you think about humans, they're little more than stupid bags of flesh. Look at it; they're killing this planet bit by bit, either because they don't stop to think about recycling a bit of used materials or because they want to make a profit. There's a hole in this planet's ozone layer, the climate's changing, their nonrenewable resources are dwindling faster than ever...but the instant someone comes up with a neat solution to at least some of their problems, if not all of them, they put it aside out of greed or laziness. It's almost like they're all suicidal."

"What are you saying we should do? Conquer the planet, force them to clean up their act for their own good? We lost a lot of friends trying to prevent exactly that a long time ago."

A glance at his rifle, and Hightail snorted. "I remember. But what other options do we have?"

The guardian of the Key of Wisdom sank into his control chair. "I wish I knew."

* * *

"Coby, please tell me you're..."

"Mom, I'm fine. I'm a lot more worried about you guys right now though."

The words of her son did little to make Susan relax. "We aren't the ones trapped in a mountain surrounded by military vehicles." A motherly glare at her youngest son before he could point out that military vehicles weren't arrayed around Longs Peak. "Just be careful." She shut off the phone, then sank onto a nearby chair.

Her husband put a comforting arm around her. "He'll be fine honey."

She reached up and squeezed her husband's hand tight. "I hope you're right."

"Of course Coby'll be okay. I mean, no Men in Black are gonna hurt the Transformers!" Bud gave a quick glance out their front window and added to himself, "At least, I hope so."

* * *

"It's a given; we've got a whole mess of vehicles all around us; weapon-mounted buggies, and so on. All with a mess of big guns." Sideswipe turned away from the various monitors, a nervous expression on his face. "What do we do?"

"That's exactly my question." Scavenger turned to the gathered Transformers and humans around him. "Suggestions?"

"We can't attack them." Sentinel Maximus sat among his comrades fully repaired. "Doing so would be disastrous, both in lives lost and in political repercussions."

"If we make any efforts to exit the base or attempt to counter them, they'd simply attack us. That narrows our options right there," Anti-Blaze quickly agreed.

"And I wouldn't recommend using a Space Bridge to get out." Smokescreen gave a glance at several monitor banks. "With all they're doing to jam communications, that'll be just as badly scrambled."

"Maybe we could dig a tunnel," the Build Team leader spoke up half-jokingly.

"And go where Wedge, China?" the crane sarcastically retorted.

Hightower's words stung the younger Autobot, prompting Grimlock to intervene. "Even if we got away, no way could we move all of this tech...and we can't exactly leave the few allies we've got behind."

Wedge ducked his head in embarrassment and at the silliness of his suggestion. Heavyload rested a hand on the Build Team leader's shoulder, offering unspoken reassurance and support. "Leaving the base would get us safely out, but Grimlock's right. We need to think big picture."

"Which leaves only diplomacy." Predacon cast his optics upon the Autobot commander and their human liaison. "Which isn't a promising prospect, given what Senator Beller has said and done."

"Not to mention her new friend. I've never even heard of Sector Seven," Thundercracker muttered.

"Sounds like some rejected idea from a science fiction movie," Zapmaster concurred with his partner.

"Whoever they are, they're making a massive error in judgment." Diana turned her attention to the monitors herself, her eyes narrowed. "Someone's bound to notice what's going on here."

"Speaking of, they mentioned something about doing whatever they wanted." The blue and grey Flanker gave the human woman a concerned look. "Can they do that?"

A weak shrug. "The Constitution was made to be flexible; if they can find a loophole or enough of an excuse to arrest whoever they want, chances are they will." Her voice grew downcast. "I just hope they don't."

* * *

"We don't have enough parts to fix up the ship, but we can at least get things started." Overcast looked at the younger Autobot before him. "And if we can't do it, chances are good the cavalry will."

"I was hoping you'd contacted Cybertron about all of this." Rodimus gave a glance to the main view screen. "Speaking of, we'd better start with communications; we're far enough out to keep position, but we still need to get in touch with Earthbase and _Atlantis_."

Moving aside to allow Downshift to pass, the Autobot flier shook his head. "Already tried. We got _Atlantis_ easily enough; they're alright, and just about ready to take off should they need to. Earthbase is still out though, some kind of interference."

The cavalier rolled his optics. "Perfect."

A set of panels and readouts sprang back to life as light increased throughout the command deck. The _Axalon_'s engineer gave a small, triumphant cry. "That's more of the power systems coming back online. We should have sensors and communications now; weapons and shields in the next fifteen cycles." The sensor panel beeped. "Not a moment too soon; we've got company."

The main screen flashed back to life, then switched to show the oncoming arrival. It was a massive vessel, twin engine pods with massive fin-like extensions on each side of a massive blue-grey hull, a brilliant red Autobot emblem on its bow.

"_Axalon_, this is _Hyperion_, can you read us?"

"We're picking you up loud and clear Scattorshot." Rodimus grinned. "Perfect timing."

"Thanks Rodimus." The small blue Autobot sat at his console aboard the Autobot flagship, checking over readouts as his commander came up behind him. "We'll dock and send over repair crews in about fifteen cycles. Just hang tight."

"Easily done. _Axalon_ out."

As the signal cut off, Optimus gave a quick glance to the readout screen. "Get me a channel down to the President, and see if you can contact Jazz's team."

"Got it boss. Anything in the meantime?"

"Yes; keep shields up. I'm not taking any chances."

* * *

Franklin wiped some sweat from his brow, then took a sip from his canteen. They'd been marching through the jungle for roughly half an hour with little result; no sign of COBRA or anything else aside from the occasional bug. If it wasn't for the dangerous situation they were in, he would've been enjoying the tropical tranquility of the island and pondering a potential vacation in the future after this was over, never mind the high possibility of either armed forces or biologists arguing over the island's usage.

"You okay sir?" asked one of the soldiers alongside him.

"I've been through worse." He turned his head, catching "Figueroa" on the nametag. "You?"

The soldier looked at him nervously, occasionally fidgeting with the cross he wore. "Just something about this loco place making me uneasy; it's like the trees have eyes or something."

Franklin was almost willing to counter that statement, but taking a brief look at the Mini-Cons slowly rolling along among them, he decided against it. "Just keep sharp. We'll make it out just fine."

The loud cry of a hawk sounded out above them. The soldiers did little aside from recognize the noise and continue onward, although the Air Force colonel unconsciously took a glimpse upward, in part trying to catch sight of the bird. He did so directly ahead, its long brown wings reflecting the sunlight.

Those wings, however, didn't have feathers created from keratin or carbon.

Franklin's suspicions were confirmed as the Pontiac behind him quickly halted, the Humvee far ahead doing likewise. "Defensive positions! Incoming!" Jazz snapped.

The entire group dropped to a crouch on instinct and readied their carbines, aiming them at the incoming target. They only noticed a brief second later as leaves rustled close by.

Suddenly, something rushed out of the trees and seized up a startled Witwicky, another reaching out and taking the same soldier Franklin had just been speaking to. Just as the remnants figured out what was going on, the hawk laughed and transformed into a robot, then fired off a blast of light.

"Scatter!" Faireborn yelled.

The soldiers darted to one side or another as Overhaul and Jazz transformed back to their robotic modes, the latter moving forward and slapping a shield onto one shoulder. He took the blast easily, skidding along the ground and kicking up dirt as he did so. The other Autobot took stock of the remaining contingent and asked, "Where's Mirage?"

* * *

"Never hunted humans before," growled the ebon wolf as he looked upon his captive. He'd dragged Sam into a small clearing, the young adult miraculously avoiding more than a few scrapes and cuts. As Sam looked at him in frightened surprise, the beast-former added, "I'm disappointed."

The wolf suddenly tensed, then leapt aside and transformed into a robotic form before swiping at the air with both hands. One attack was parried, while the Mini-Con received a hard blow to the head. As he stumbled to one side, a voice rang out, "SHOOT!"

Witwicky reacted instinctively, Army training taking over for the moment, whipping up the surprisingly still in-hand M4 and squeezing the trigger. The 45 mm rounds pelted the black wolf, prompting him to shield his faceplate even if the munitions did little damage, although he didn't relish the idea of loosing an optic. The thin Transformer snarled before returning to his beast mode and charging at the now terrified private.

Suddenly, a massive sandy form burst from the jungle into the small clearing, slamming hard into the wolf's side and knocking it unconscious onto the ground, limbs twitching at odd points.

Sam looked first at the wolf in relief, then at his apparent rescuer in surprise. It was a mechanical triceratops, its body a sand-like color with bits of light purple, blue and gold. Its red eyes were first fixed on the unconscious Transformer, then turned to him. Much to the boy's surprise, the robotic dinosaur walked toward him sedately. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Who are you?"

"An old friend." Mirage then reappeared and offered a hand. "It's been a long time Knockdown. I like the new look."

The triceratops smiled, then changed as the wolf had done, taking on a humanoid form with the halves of its tail forming shoulder armor. He helped Sam to his feet, then took the offered hand. "Nice to see you too Mirage. Mind filling me in?"

* * *

The loud reports of gunfire rang out as several of the soldiers opened fire upon their aerial opponent from behind cover, the rest keeping their eyes open for the remaining attackers.

"Lost sight of Witwicky and Figueroa, Captain. These things must've taken 'em."

"We'll find 'em once we're done here," Lennox promised his second.

A rustle from the jungle, and four guns found themselves pointed in one direction as a massive orange and black form, looking like a mechanical tiger, emerged and charged upon them. The soldiers opened fire, but their bullets did little to dissuade the oncoming aggressor.

A roar sounded off, and the soldiers stopped in just enough time to watch as a mechanical, green Tyrannosaur emerged and head butted the tiger, knocking it to the ground.

In the skies above, the hawk continued to circle above, dodging munitions left and right, until a loud squawk rang out. The bird transformed once more as a second flying Mini-Con, red and grey, grabbed hold and sent it slamming down into the ground.

"Dreadwing," said the newcomer.

"Swoop." Dreadwing smiled nastily. "I wondered when we'd meet again."

The raptor Mini-Con quickly pushed off his opponent, only for a massive burst of energy to slam into his body, light smoke issuing from his sizzled armor as his systems overloaded.

Downshift gave a triumphant cry, then turned to the Autobot agent beside him. "Nice to know you've still got it."

Jazz allowed himself a grin, then stowed away his plasma caster as the last of the attacking Mini-Cons was knocked out, its opponent transforming. As the human soldiers looked uneasily at the new arrivals, he raised a calming hand. "Chill dudes, these guys are on our side." He looked to their leader, still grinning. "Been a long time Swoop."

"Just glad you guys finally came looking for us." The small Pteranodon gave a nudge to his aerial rival. "But I'm guessing that's not the main reason why you guys are here." He turned to Faireborn and Franklin. "Snarl took your man over in that direction; he's wounded, but we can help him."

"What about...?" Franklin asked, seconds before the remaining member of the Dinobot team arrived, Sam and Mirage in tow and the last of the Predator Attack team slung over his back. "Report."

"I'm okay." The young man jerked his head at the two Mini-Cons. "Got lucky, sir."

The Tyrannosaur quickly stepped forward. "As nice as it'll be to catch up, we need to get to cover."

"Terrorsaur's right." Swoop transformed to his beast mode. "Follow me; we've got a lot to show you guys."

* * *

The doors to the Oval Office swung open as Keller walked in, Abernathy following close behind. "Mister President, we have a situation..."

"Close the door John." Seated near the President's desk was a tall man in his mid-forties wearing a dark suit. The President himself was seated behind his desk, a video monitor on one side featuring the familiar visage of Optimus Prime. "I was just about to hear about it myself." The door was closed, and the President motioned to his guest. "This is Tom Banachek, Sector Seven."

"I've never heard of any organization with that name," the general noted as he sat down, Keller taking a spot beside him.

"Our standard operating procedure General, my apologies." Banachek collected himself for a moment. "Sector Seven is a specialized paramilitary division, founded during the Hoover Administration to study and combat non-terrestrial threats. The group was kept out of military knowledge, reporting only to the President and the US National Security Council. At first all we had were odd artifacts retrieved at points across the globe; that changed with the Roswell incident in 1947."

The Defense Secretary tilted his head, recognizing one of the famous - or infamous - dates and cities of American urban legends. "You mean that wasn't a weather balloon?"

"It was Mister Secretary, but that isn't all of it. Around the same time, an eyewitness report surfaced of a spacecraft landing in the New Mexico desert near Roswell, changing shape and form into a humanoid robot, finding some sort of device buried underground, then departing with four additional robots from within the device. Fortunately with the little grey men story, our big transforming robot didn't get out. At the time, we referred to him as Non-Biological Entity One."

"His true name is Astrotrain." Optimus Prime's voice caught their attention immediately. "He's a Decepticon bounty hunter; what he uncovered was one of dozens of Mini-Con stasis units long buried on Earth. He retrieved four of the six in the pod and departed; the only thing he left behind was a fragment of his heat shield."

"Said fragment was recovered and analyzed at Area 51, but little could be done with it. But a lot of us instantly realized what it meant; there were aliens out there, mechanical ones, who knew where we were and had friends here. S7 started work to try and deal with them in addition to other alien threats, though that's thankfully been all but neutralized with the current treaty."

"Then explain why we can't get in touch with Autobase Earth," Abernathy requested somewhat tersely.

Banachek thought over his answer. "Unfortunately, not all of S7 was as happy to have one less concern. My immediate associate, Agent Reginald Simmons, was looking forward to having some alien technology to play with; S7 isn't the only organization of its kind, but one with limited gains. Britain's gotten its hands on sophisticated alien technology of its own, and their Torchwood facility recently put it to good use."

"The strike on the _Axalon_." The Autobot's optics narrowed. "I'm assuming that your organization is responsible for our lack of communications with our facility here on Earth."

The agent nodded. "A satellite network meant to jam communications signals in a specific area. We also use it to keep surveillance on all our members; Simmons is in Colorado right now along with a squad of agents and vehicles. Based on our evidence, he's accompanied by Senator Beller."

Keller gave an aggravated sigh as Abernathy cast a grim look at the agent. "What gave him the idea to even try this crazy scheme? Do you think he actually believed that bull about the Transformers willingly giving aid to COBRA?"

"We all know a few were aiding them; the Autobots confirmed it themselves. Not to mention that photo they sent out." The secretary rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If they're at all like Beller, they'll find an excuse easily enough."

"Whatever their reasoning, we need to prioritize." Prime looked to the general. "Our team has made it to COBRA Island along with your strike force; we're attempting to get in touch with them now. The COBRA organization remains the bigger threat; once they are dealt with, we deal with the situation in Colorado. In light of what they've revealed and some recent information on our end, I'll be sending reinforcements."

"What sort of recent information?"

"We're transmitting now General. We'll try to find some way around the communications blackout, but for now it'll be up to you to deal with things. If we go down, the situation could escalate, and none of us wants that."

"Agreed. We'll keep in touch." The signal cut off, and the President stood up, clapping his hands once. "I think I'm due for a trip to Colorado about now."

* * *

"So the stasis unit that your team was in crashed in the sea, and when this island was formed, it was hidden in the rock."

"That's our best guess." Knockdown looked between Mirage and Jazz as he marched forward in his beast mode, following his commander. "Late last year the pod was activated by Dualor. According to Swoop, he was there to get Dreadwing's unit, met up with this Commander guy you're looking for, and came up with that big plan of his."

"And Swoop was brought online without anyone knowing, so he heard the whole thing." Jazz gave an appreciative chuckle. "Not bad. I guess you guys are the ones we have to thank for no anti-aircraft guns shooting us down?"

Terrorsaur snickered. "We didn't do it by ourselves."

The small convoy of humans and Transformers, one injured and supported on a makeshift stretcher with his leg in a temporary splint between the two dinosaur Mini-Cons, arrived in a forested area against a mountain, a small cave entrance just barely visible. Swoop landed at its entrance and transformed. "It's a little small for you 'bots, but there's enough space for everyone else."

The Pontiac and the Humvee transformed, their unconscious prisoners sliding to the ground beside them. "We'll keep watch." Overhaul pointed towards the skies. "Got a few guys in the air we need to keep in touch with anyway."

The Pteranodon nodded, then motioned for the others to follow. Picking up his step a little to catch up with the Army captain, Epps looked about the cave uneasily. "You sure we can trust these guys Captain?"

"They weren't the ones trying to eat us Epps." Lennox looked about the surprisingly spacious tunnel, soldier instincts checking for any crevices and niches. "That's enough for the benefit of the doubt. For now anyway."

The group quickly entered a large, dug-out area. In one corner was the familiar silvery-blue glistening of a Mini-Con stasis pod; Franklin recognized it immediately, having seen one before. Collected in one corner were a number of crates containing weapons, electronic parts, medical supplies, and a number of other odds and ends, all marked with the familiar COBRA logo. Swoop gave a whistle, and another Mini-Con with long blue and yellow limbs emerged from the opened pod.

"You didn't mention you were bringing company," the Mini-Con said in greeting.

"We came on short notice." Mirage walked up and offered a hand. "It's been a long time."

"Too long." The jet shook, then turned to greet the human commanders. "Thunderwing, Mini-Con Clear Skies Team."

"Colonel Michael Franklin, US Air Force. This is Captain Marissa Faireborn, Army Intelligence." He squinted. "F-14?"

"Close enough to it; my team's pod came online near a base of yours." The remaining two members of his unit emerged from the pod, moving carefully through the small opening. "Steel Wind and I managed to get aircraft. Nightscream, well...you can see for yourself."

Franklin gave the two Mini-Cons a quick look; one clearly had another aircraft for an alternate mode, an A-10 by the looks of him, and was helping the members of their unit to tend to Figueroa. The other looked far more organic, with a scale-like hide of red and orange hues and massive leathery wings, a dragon's head at the end of his right arm. He moved slowly, either due to care for his wings or nervousness.

"Then you're techno-organic?" Faireborn asked, hoping that she didn't sound too rude.

The dragon Mini-Con looked to them in surprise, then nodded. "Only one of us I'm afraid." His facial plates curled into a smile. "They broke the mold with me."

"We arrived here right after COBRA made its little proclamation." Thunderwing looked at Franklin seriously and explained, "We dedicated ourselves a long time ago to make sure we could fly in clean skies. When they destroyed that tower, they made an enemy in the three of us."

"And we could use all the help you can give."

Figueroa's pained groans as he was set on the earthen floor quickly alerted them.

"Medical supplies, that crate there." Two of the soldiers rushed to follow Steel Wind's beckoning. "Your friend here's lucky; Snarl got him by his uniform. Broken leg, a lot of scrapes and cuts, but he's okay otherwise."

The soldier gave out a string of complaints in Spanish, then a loud hiss after giving up on trying to sit up. "If this is good luck, I'd hate to see bad compadre."

The sliver Mini-Con jet chuckled. "You're joking. That's a good sign." He turned away towards the other soldiers. "Anyone here able to make a more secure splint?"

One of the soldiers raised a hand. "Me."

As they went to work, Knockdown and Terrorsaur began carrying the Predators into the stasis unit. "Hate to rain on things, but there's four more teams where these guys came from, and we've only got space for one more," the diminutive T-rex apologetically spoke.

"We'll worry about that later," Mirage assured the Tyrannosaur. "Four other teams? We've only seen three Swoop."

"The Dirt Diggers are inside the base itself; it's mostly thanks to them that no one's managed to make a major dent on COBRA." The Pteranodon produced a small handheld computer and handed it to his fellow Mini-Con. "Since we woke up, my team's done all it could to sabotage their efforts; nicking supplies here and there, altering their defenses so that they aren't picking up incoming aircraft, and so on. This little gadget was part of our hauls; it's got a link to their computers on it, but we haven't been able to get in. Decryptions and all that. My team's good with combat, but we aren't computer technicians."

"Fortunately we've got one with us." Mirage tossed the computer to Downshift. "Go back and tell Jazz we need Wirejack down here, now." As his subordinate rushed off, the F1 racer's optics glittered with unholy glee. "If he can figure out how to make them eject from their planes, he can hack their computer banks easily enough."

The colonel nodded his approval. "While that's working, how did you get all the supplies?"

"We found an entrance to their facility here on the surface. Haven't gone in too deep though; didn't want to risk doing too much, or we'd be caught." The Mini-Con smiled. "Though with strength in numbers, I think we stand a much better chance of doing some real damage."

* * *

"Calling Autobot team on COBRA Island, this is _Hyperion_, come in."

A brief hiss of communications static, then a familiar voice came in. "No need ta get all worried over us Scattorshot, we're all in one piece. Good to hear you guys."

"Likewise Jazz." Optimus leaned forward. "Status report."

"Made it to the island just fine, no problems. Got good news and bad news too; turns out there's more Mini-Con teams than just the two that attacked us earlier. Most of 'em are with COBRA, but the rest are on our side. They've nicked some computer equipment; Wirejack's lookin' it over to see if we can use it."

"There's another problem though boss-bot," the brawler chimed in. "One of those Mini-Con teams helping COBRA? They regenerated, just like Nemesis Prime did."

"Sounds like we've figured out who sabotaged the _Exodus_." Starscream stepped up next to his brother. "Jazz, Overhaul, we're sending reinforcements down. All the same, keep us informed about what's going on."

"Got it Screamer."

The signal cut off, and the two leaders turned to one another. Optimus vented a sigh. "And now we know the full answers. Mini-Cons sabotaged their own ship, causing it to crash on Earth."

"But why there?" From his perch on the console, Sparkplug looked up at his partner and friend with anguish and frustration. "Why Earth? Why not some other planet?"

"That may not even matter." The Autobot leader looked upon the command deck's main viewer. "What did matter was that the instant we found them, we went after them; the fighting resumed, and we were further distracted from Unicron's return."

"Which would explain why Soundwave told Astrotrain about Earth; the sooner one of us found out about it, the better chance the rest of us would know." The Decepticon jet allowed himself an amused snort. "Except he didn't tell anyone about it, and kept his unit as far out of sight as possible."

"Leaving it to Rad, Carlos and Alexis to find us due to sheer dumb luck." The yellow and crème Mini-Con shook his head. "That leaves a question though; why are they working for him?"

A loud grunt sounded off from the communications officer. "Look, ah haven't been around for all the crazy slag you guys've seen, but ah think you got bigger problems."

Optimus nodded. "Send word to the _Flash Frenzy_; they're on."

* * *

"You're taking this pretty well."

An uneasy smile. "Well, it could be worse right?" The false bravado faded away quickly. "What am I saying? I'm scared Kicker."

An arm found itself around her slim shoulders. "I'm scared too Misha. No telling what they'll do out there." He hugged her close. "Did Aunt Diana ever tell you about my great-grandfather?"

"She didn't need to, I looked it up." Misha looked out one of the few windows of Autobase Earth, catching sight of a circling Apache in the distance. "Jonathan Masters was a diplomat; he spent some time in the Soviet Union during the early thirties, and wrote about the government there. He didn't say anything positive about how it came to power or how it was being run, but he did give their system a thorough look. And that was enough for the House Un-American Activities Committee." She looked Kicker in the eye. "Did you know him?"

The teen shook his head. "He died a little after I was born. Even after McCarthy lost influence, it was a long time before he was treated with respect. She was close to him, took a lot of it to heart. That's probably why she isn't that happy about all of this." Kicker gave a small smile. "Knowing her, she's probably having an easy time equating McCarthy and Beller."

"Can't blame her I guess." The two teenagers turned as their onlooker gave a nervous laugh. "Sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

The young man shook his head as his lady friend blushed slightly. "It's alright Miss Holley. We weren't really that private."

Stella shrugged. "I've noticed that with your family." Misha looked at her in surprise before she explained, "I live next door to the other Chad Jones...the younger one, I mean."

The younger woman looked at her boyfriend and grinned. "And here I was almost jealous."

Kicker looked at her in alarm, but before he could protest, footsteps rang out. The three turned as Diana arrived. "We got through!"

* * *

Beller frowned as she idly tapped a finger against the frame of the buggy. No sign of their metallic friends in their mountain fortress...typical enough. They could last a lifetime in there - them and their traitorous allies.

The nerve of that woman, comparing her to that drunken fool. He was combating a clear and present threat, the same as her; he was vindicated years later, just as she would be. Nothing would change that.

"What do you mean there's another ship in orbit?"

Her attention was turned back to Simmons as his associate, a woman with a British accent, answered back via a video link. "I mean there's another ship up there, the third one if you include the one we hit. And it's bigger than both of them."

"Well, can't you blast it? If something that big goes boom, it'd definitely take out the other two ships."

"Two problems with that Simmons; one, our gun hasn't recharged yet. Two, that second ship is beginning to make planet fall. Our estimates have it heading for somewhere in the Atlantic."

_Probably saying hello to their snake friends_, Beller thought to herself.

"Well lob a Tomahawk at it or something! You have a Navy, use it!"

"We don't have that authority. When our gun recharges in six minutes, we'll shoot them down, but that's all we can do."

The line cut off, and Simmons muttered several choice words under his breath. He then turned to the driver and ordered, "We've still got that launch site in Canada; get word to them, they can..." A loud beep from his radio interrupted him. "What now?"

"Sir, we have incoming. It's Marine One."

"The President's helicopter?" Beller turned to her associate, panic seeping through for the first time in the day. "Delay him!"

The loud sounds of airplane engines caught their attention as a group of F-22s flew overhead, circling the mountain and the helicopters arrayed around it.

"Don't think that's an option anymore," the S7 agent muttered.

The two caught sight of the famous bi-colored Sikorsky SH-3 Sea King descending down a small distance behind them right away. Simmons and Beller climbed out of their vehicle as it landed and its hatch opened, the President stepping out and marching towards them with righteous fury, Keller and Banachek flanking him easily despite the wind generated by the chopper's blades.

"Mister President, I -!"

"One minute Senator!" He turned to the younger agent. "You Simmons?!" The agent barely nodded before a hand was held out. "Radio, now!"

"I'd listen to him Reg!" Banachek advised over the downwash.

Simmons stammered, but handed over his radio. Without another word, the President cranked the volume to the max. "Attention! This is the President of the United States, Commander-in-Chief of all armed forces! This operation is cancelled effective immediately; the four Raptors are to escort all Sector Seven operatives to Petersen Air Force Base! Comply, or they will shoot you down! Authorization code seven-one-four-epsilon-six-oh-delta-four-nine-beta!" A pointed glare at Simmons as he handed back the radio. "That means you too!"

The agent looked from his radio, to the President, to his fellow S7 operative. "You can't-!"

"Mister President, these robots are a clear and present-!"

"Senator Beller, Congress has accused my administration of overstepping its boundaries! Do you want to give me an excuse to say likewise?!"

She gestured angrily at the hidden base. "They're helping the terrorists! How are we supposed to react to that?!"

"Some of them are helping the terrorists; the rest are helping us against them! They're being honest; they used footage we gave them to determine this information, which we verified independently! They're being civil, while someone in Britain decided to shoot at them. We're lucky we haven't sparked an interplanetary war!" He shot another glare at Simmons. "You deaf boy?!"

Simmons immediately rushed back to the ASLV he had ridden into the mountains on and climbed in. As it started up, Beller could only give the President a furious glare before following him back into the presidential helicopter. Today, it was over.

* * *

"Autobase Earth to dispatch team; sorry for technical difficulties, we had interference. We got the update from _Hyperion_; best of luck."

"Thanks Scavenger, 'preciate it." Jazz quickly turned off the line, and then turned to the resident hacker. "Anything good kid?"

"Five nano-kliks." Trying his best to hide his nervous tone, Wirejack cycled through the last of the coding on the retrieved palm computer. While hacking Earth networks was mere sparkling's play compared to what he had to handle back on Cybertron – really, they put T3 to shame – it didn't help that they might be on a tight schedule. It was already tricky enough on improvising a port of sorts with the appropriated equipment so he could directly connect the relatively tiny device. Wire could've done it wirelessly, but the downside to that was the possibility of the signal being blocked, which would lead to a broken connection and that was never good when you were hacking. As a chime sounded off, he couldn't help but grin. While he could have just bypass the firewalls, the computer tech decided to trip the alarms on a delayed timer as a sort of payback. "I'm in! Beginning mainframe sweep."

The gathered Autobots, Mini-Cons and humans looked upon the hacker with increased attentiveness, although leaving enough space. There was always the unspoken rule of not crowding any flying-type Transformer too much.

"We were right; COBRA found Brushguard right after the Battle of Longs Peak. But they restarted full operations right after they met with Dualor, started bringing in all sorts of equipment and munitions here. The Energon reservoir, an Autobot held in stasis, all of it was right here though, they just didn't know what they had until now...oh slag..." He looked upon the others and explained, "The spores they used earlier; they have a lot more of them, weaponized and placed in ICBMs. They're already prepped. They could launch at any time, strike any number of cities. These things won't take down stone or concrete or glass, but steel or plastics...it'd be a disaster!"

"Then we need ta throw a monkey wrench in their works." Jazz tapped his gun against his shoulder, processors running through various scenarios at high speeds. "Entry points?"

A holographic 3D blueprint projected over his gauntlet, highlighting a section. "Seven entrances we can use - the closest one is about a half-mile south."

"It's a loading dock, near the one we use all the time." Swoop pointed in the direction the hacker provided. "We'll need a distraction though."

"Ask and ye shall receive." The special operative once more activated his communicator. "Jazz to _Hyperion_; mind givin' a little help?"

* * *

He seethed beneath his hood. "What was that, again?"

The trooper gulped audibly. "We've lost contact with the Predator Attack Team. They aren't even showing up."

The Commander growled. "Blasted technology, always failing! No surface-to-air missiles, no transforming robots lending their assistance, nothing! What more bad news is there?"

Another trooper timidly sat up when an alarm went off from his console. "Sir...our network's been accessed."

"Ask and one will receive," Destro whispered in dark amusement to the Baroness before their leader erupted into another furious fit of rage.

"Our computers hacked?! Our mainframe analyzed?! WHAT ELSE DO YOU PLAN TO REPORT?!"

A massive explosion sounded off, causing the room to tremble. Warning alarms sounded off as screens all around the control room shifted to show one single green helicopter flying around, transforming, and opening fire upon the island. Another screen gave the clear image of a massive spacecraft descending from above, appearing as if out of thin air.

COBRA Commander's orders were swift. "Start the missile countdown! Launch aircraft, now!"

* * *

An underwater dock slid upwards and revealed itself, allowing several deep blue aircraft to launch. They rocketed into the air, turning and rounding on their target.

Bulkhead allowed himself a chuckle, then transformed to robot mode, his combat pack connected and ready. He then opened fire, blasting wings and engines and forcing all the pilots that came his way to eject as their planes exploded.

"The diversion's being handled Jazz; time for all of you to make your entrance."

* * *

Within the base, a group of COBRA operatives stood at the ready within a massive steel-grey loading dock, guns loaded and aimed. One looked up worriedly as a loud locking sound went off outside, but kept his gun ready.

Suddenly, the door was blasted away, its fragments raining down in front of them and shooting up sparks as they landed. Gunfire went off as the fragments reached the ground, a massive blue blast of energy and light tearing into the wall behind them. The COBRA troopers ducked to the ground, and looked up as their new arrivals charged in.

It was a chaotic scene. Two small aircraft, flanked by a metal Pteranodon and a crimson and orange dragon, swooped about the room, blasting the walls and tearing apart electrical equipment with little fanfare. Two dinosaurs stomped their way through, flanked by the remaining US servicemen. Some of the COBRA soldiers apparently seemed to think twice about attacking and chose to flee, escaping through the loading bay's four exits.

"Little odd that none of 'em got killed in that little mess, huh?"

Faireborn gave a small laugh at Mirage's comment. "You should meet my parents sometime; the stories they could tell." Mentally thankful for packing C4, she pressed the malleable plastic explosive onto the locks and along the hinges before initiating detonation when everyone was clear, weakening the steel door and allowing Knockdown to perform his namesake move. "Everyone with me. Let's move!"

* * *

The Commander seethed beneath his mask, but allowed himself a small smile. "An invasion. Fine. Let's see them deal with this." Without another word, he slammed a fist down upon a console, signaling the ICBMs to launch. "A pity. I always liked Edinburgh."

* * *

Tremors shot through the base as a massive blast rocked the chamber with the Energon pit.

"I knew these giant robots would be trouble!" shouted one COBRA officer, starting to have a breakdown. "I just knew it! We're all gonna-!"

"Percy, shut UP!"

Just as Percy's friend shouted for him to be silent, a massive blast tore apart the roof, forcing the two to scramble. Two massive robotic forms with similar coloring landed hard, then immediately cast their optics upon their brother.

Skyfall stepped forward towards Breakaway's frozen form, and gazed upon it both cautiously and in horror. "What have they done to him?"

"Most likely very little, aside from keep him on ice." Landquake surveyed the Energon pit and the various tubes leading into it. "The good news is that not much has been removed. Based on the residue, it looks like they've used less than one percent of it. As for the Energon itself...4.75 purity rating." He lifted the various tubes out of the pit, the devices still sucking Energon from the pool as he did so, then opened fire upon the nearby equipment. "We need every able body Skyfall; the sooner he is thawed, the better."

The deep blue jet stepped away, and then activated a comm.-line. "Wirejack, this is Skyfall. The one we're looking for is stuck in cryogenic suspension; can you cut power to it?"

* * *

"Done," the hacker replied, furiously going away at his keypad. "Power is being cut to cryo systems as we speak. Give him a minute, and he'll be thawed."

"Thanks," came the archivist's curt reply.

Wirejack quickly switched back to monitoring the battle's progress and looked over to those with him. "They're alright."

Franklin gave a thankful nod, and then gave a glance towards Figueroa and the two soldiers who remained with him. "Any word on evac?"

"They're on..." A loud siren rang off on his gauntlet computer, and the F-14's optics widened. "Oh no...bad day, bad day, bad day...Jazz, bad news; COBRA's making a launch, and we have incoming!"

* * *

"What kind of -?" came the special operative's reply as he rolled along, the Race Team, Overhaul and Talon accompanying him. A blast shot across his spoiler, forcing him to swerve to a screeching halt along the ground cursing loudly in both English and Cybertronian.

From the surrounding forest emerged a familiar trio of deep brown Mini-Cons, guns discharging at a rapid pace. Before they could respond, the three members of the Race Team were themselves knocked aside, their counterparts in the Speed Chaser Team forcing them off the road.

One of the Aqua Raiders chuckled mirthlessly in a feminine voice. "Prepare yourselves for the void, Autobots!"

Overhaul simply spun his wheels, turning to one side and kicking up a layer of mud and grime. It blanketed their optics, giving him a moment to transform and kick them to the ground. "That all you got?"

A powerful laser blast tore into the ground near him, prompting the brawler to jump to one side. He looked up, and his optics widened.

Floating down ominously from above were the familiar visages of Sideways, Soundwave, and Nemesis Prime, their optics and faceplates glinting maliciously. The first of the heralds, purplish charges building between the twin prongs upon his head, sneered. "Not even remotely."

* * *

Mirage flipped onto his back and transformed, landing beside his teammates as their opponents advanced upon them. "Top Gear...WHAT are you doing? Why attack us and the Autobots?"

His opposite deployed two twin-pronged blades, one from each arm that glinted darkly in the Caribbean sun while his answer was just as cold and full of contempt. "Serving our true master. Unlike you, he will no longer be hiding in the shadows. It is thanks to him that we are here on this marvelous, chaotic world...and we intend to make certain it is utilized properly. For unlike you brother, and the people of this world..." The familiar spoiler on his chest slid down and apart, droplets of liquid metal forming as it went - within the revealed Spark Chamber was nothing. "...we do not lack clarity of vision."

Mirage's disbelief was quickly replaced with focused anger as his sibling closed his empty chest. Inside his own Spark, the yellow F1 began to mourn...but that was for later. "Race Team...take them down."

He reassumed his vehicular mode, then disappeared from view as the other two sped away, dust kicked up in the process. As it settled, Tailslide gave a mirthless laugh. "They ran. Just like always."

The rev of an engine and the starting of motors flooded their audio receptors. The three looked in surprise as Mirage sped towards them, flashing back into view as he did so, and transformed just as his front collided with his opposite, his hands smashing into the faces of the remaining Speed Chasers. Mirage landed hard, and deployed blades of his own as his teammates returned and rammed their own opposites into nearby trees.

"You aren't the only one who's changed brother." As Top Gear got to his feet, his expression still neutral, his opposite beckoned. "Let's dance."

* * *

"It can never be easy, can it?" Wirejack feverishly typed away at his keyboard, trying his best to halt the missile launches. As simple as it was for him to break through human-created firewalls as if they were nothing, stopping a launch sequence should've been accomplished easily. Unfortunately, he had little time to get deeper into COBRA's network and had to improvise quickly when the warning broke through. A chime soon sounded off, and he stopped.

Franklin and the other soldiers looked upon him. "Well?"

The hacker heaved, not out of a need to breathe but more to cycle in fresh air to cool his systems. "I stopped all of them from launching...except one."

As blasts issued through the COBRA base, Skyfall and Landquake waited diligently. As the latter took a quick check of the Energon pool beside them, a light cracking sound immediately had their optics trained on the frozen Transformer before them.

Sheets of ice collapsed to the ground, dropping from his frame like rain. Fingers curled and flexed, joints long at rest now active once more, before the ancient Transformer finally cast off his icy bonds. He wobbled a bit before Skyfall rushed forward and steadied him. "Easy Breakaway. You're alright."

He looked up upon him in surprise. When he spoke, the words came out softly and uneasily, as if he hadn't spoken for a long time. "You...you know my name?"

The Warthog nodded as his fellow Transformer stepped forward. "We came to bring you home."

Breakaway looked from one to the other, amazement and joy in his optics until he saw the pool. The optics narrowed. "No!" His voice rose as he regained his footing, a steel grey Energon star forming from the liquid energy and latching onto his back. Twin Energon weapons formed in his hands as he turned back to them, surprising the pair in how fast the newly-awakened mech recovered from his frozen sleep. "I failed to protect this reserve...but those who violated it will make up for what they have wasted." The loud sound of rocket exhaust flooding his senses, the ancient Autobot amended, "Nor shall they use it for destruction." He then transformed into his vehicular form and blasted skyward.

The others looked upon him, but did not argue. They instead followed his lead, summoning Energon stars of their own. Skyfall transformed to his vehicle mode and followed, Landquake activating jets and following behind.

* * *

Overhaul found himself flying to one side and crashing into the ground in an ungraceful roll as Talon wove and dodged through the air. All the while, Sideways attempted to blast them both, cackling maniacally while tossing out taunts that mixed in with the brawler's returning curses. Some of the more colorful vocabulary had the Harrier wincing upon hearing them, getting clipped on the wing for her inattention before retaliating with several grenades. The black herald cursed in turn as the explosives hit his armor, even as it regenerated.

Nemesis Prime looked upon the scene, Soundwave at his side. "It's good to be back on Earth again."

"Save your appreciation of this mudball for another time." Soundwave scooped up the Aqua Raiders. "Our task is done here. We must vacate."

"Vacate our small friends then." The dark reflection of the Autobot leader coldly watched Sideways work. "I've other things to attend to."

The silent stealth craft made a sound not unlike a snort before fading away. The herald then returned his attention to the dogfight briefly before swiftly turning on his heel and stopping a strike from Jazz's blade. He looked upon the long instrument curled in his hand, a hook at its end. "Pathetic. Are you Autobots nothing without Prime?"

The blade suddenly glowed red hot, and the special operative ripped it from the herald's grip with a swift movement, tearing off his fingers as he went. Jazz followed it up with his gun, blue flames erupting from its end and enveloping the herald in a brilliant inferno. Nemesis Prime tore away from the Autobot, his arms flailing he went.

Jazz's visor slipped upwards into his helm, a smirk crossing his lips. "Not so pathetic now, huh little guy?"

The herald stopped, then turned his cold optics upon the operative. His hands curled into fists, his feet were set apart, and he roared a bestial, animalistic cry of rage. A burst of darkened energy flashed from his body, taking the flame with it and prompting Jazz to turn away. When he looked back, his optics widened in surprise.

Where once stood a blocky, ebony and light brown form now stood something else entirely, massive and terrifying. Black and tan armor, with bits of red, silver, and shiny blue, now bedecked the massive form. From its shoulders, topped by missile banks, were massive blood-tipped tusks like those of an elephant, twin mace-like weapons emerging from just beneath its hands. Upon its chest was a symbol, like that of the Autobots but shifted around to resemble a fanged fox. Its helm was different, twin tan prongs emerging from its sides, but the face within it was the same.

"You mock my default form, small one." Nemesis Prime's optics narrowed as he summoned a massive cannon into existence. The device landed in his left hand, a trunk-like extension jutting out down his back. "Now witness my true power."

Little fear, if any, flashed through the Autobot's optics before his visor came down. Just another day of being a Special Ops agent. "Bring it, glitch."

* * *

Seemingly unnoticed in the battle, the lone intercontinental ballistic missile took flight from COBRA Island, lancing skyward into the atmosphere in a shallow arc as it moved north. Following behind it were a trio of red, blue and grey Transformers, their flight systems taxed to the maximum.

"I hate to be the one to say it, but we don't stand a chance of getting to that missile!" Landquake's guns took aim. "Even if we do, how are we supposed to stop it?! Detonate it this high in the atmosphere, and the spores will be carried all over the globe!"

"We must do something!" Breakaway persisted, ignoring the influx of error messages that piled on top of one another in his vision.

A green flash just ahead of them caught their attention, enveloping the missile and causing it to slow. The trio halted and looked upon it in shock.

Skyfall was the first to realize what had happened. "It's done?"

Vector Prime nodded, his sword pointed at the projectile. After a few short seconds, the rocket's fuel ran out, and he sent it hurtling towards space, rocketing towards the sun. "It is done."

* * *

A resounding crash tore through the air, prompting Brushguard to look up as Overhaul ungracefully collapsed onto the floor of his lab. He rolled his optics. "I'm a bit busy at the moment cousin. Would you mind coming back at a later time?"

The Humvee shook his head, then got to his feet. "Sorry, I've got a job to...!" Vines shot from the walls and held him fast, pinning him to one side. "What the...?"

"Another of my successful breeding experiments, thanks in a small part to my current host's last stand in Tibet." The botanist turned to his cousin. "Why did you come Overhaul? Can't stand to be compared to me, to see me whenever you look at your own schematics?" No answer but a growl, and the botanist tutted. "You should be proud; I've taken science to untold levels cousin, all thanks to my research. One day, it will be an honor to be compared to me."

The Autobot narrowed his optics. "Just like Megatron?"

The Decepticon barely glanced at his double. "Megatron allowed for my research to happen, encouraged it. He understood my vision, even if he didn't always allow me to realize it. One of the troubles of living on a planet without indigenous plant life, no one understands what they're missing. Now however, I don't need his approval...though I'd prefer not to have your interference." A silver and blue light began to build around his body. "I discovered something interesting shortly after I awoke; I've a Cyber Key ability, one which allows me to expel acid upon a close target. It is quite powerful; melts through metal in seconds. It may even be quite painless. Farewell Overhaul..."

"...Feeeeeed Meeeeee...Feeeeeed Meeeeee..."

The light faded away as Brushguard sharply turned away from his prisoner, his optics honing in on a large flower nearby and rushing to it quite giddily. He faced it and asked, "Yes? Speak up, come on!"

From the massive bud of the plant, ruby-colored and encrusted with teeth, came a high, tinny voice. "Feeeeeed Meeeeee...Feeeeeed Meeeeee..."

The botanist's optics widened in joy. As his cousin grew repulsed, Brushguard leaned forward and coaxed it like a mentor would to its sparkling. "You almost have it dear, just one more word. 'Feed me Brushguard, feed me.'"

"Feeeeeed Meeeeee...Feeeeeed Meeeeee..."

The same vines that held Overhaul now ensnared their master. The botanist watched in shock as his plant's bud opened wide and enveloped his head. Whatever cries he made, be they in joy or terror, were drowned out as acid seeped into his skull, breaking it down.

Overhaul wanted to shut down his optics and look away. As much as he hated Brushguard, he deserved justice, not irony. However, his options were limited and he didn't want to become the plant's next meal. A flash of silver and white light later, and he fired off a burst of energy, damaging the stalk of the plant and tearing an arm loose. He then jabbed his obsidian claws into the wall and tore his remaining limbs free, then transformed and pealed for the door, switching back to his natural mode in order to use his claws. "Talon!"

"Kinda busy Overhaul!" the Harrier snapped as she darted through the air, trying her best to contain her panic and keep her other self from getting loose.

"I got a situation here. I need a cryo-grenade, now!" More vines were slashed as he hastily backed away from the voracious plant still consuming its creator.

"I've got a situation here! I need air support, before now!"

The ebon stealth flyer darted and weaved through the air and laughed as he went. "Poor little jet, all scared and alone. Don't you just wish you had someone who could come out and save you?" His cannon popped up, an orange and silver flash heralding its activation. "Oh well. I heard she's nice."

Before the cannon could fire off, Sideways had a large object crash into him head-first, grey and red and blue and black smashing into black and silver and orange and lime and falling into the ground hard. As Talon gave a sigh of relief from above, the herald recovered himself and transformed.

Standing before him was an amalgam of two massive forms, wings on its back supporting twin shoulder pads, arms ending in claws tensed and ready. "Mega-Dinobot," it said, before it separated into two more familiar components. As his comrades landed and gathered around him, Grimlock drew his Energon sword. "You not only one with fancy tricks. Dinobots, maul him!"

The dinosaur-based Autobots attacked, flames and missiles and laser bolts tearing into their enemy with terrible ferocity. Meanwhile from far above, Talon sighted the hole that her comrade had created, readying twin explosives. "I've got something a little different for you Overhaul, just keep clear! It's gonna be messy!"

"It's already messy!" The Humvee was now tearing at the vines and ripping them apart as they approached, trying his best to discourage their advance upon him. The COBRA agents who caught sight of him as he did so also noticed the out of control flora and instead ran, giving him at least a little safety. "Just hurry already!"

As he continued his work, the six remaining Mini-Cons aligned with COBRA looked upon him from behind. "What do you know, the little fleshbags were right." Dirt Rocket turned to his comrades. "What now?"

Broadside transformed, and aimed his turret at the Autobot warrior. "We slag him."

The familiar sound of a missile being fired from above quickly caught their attention, and the familiar sight of their quarry turning away, transforming and driving right at them prompted them to dive aside as he wheeled around, turned a corner and drove a fair distance. They turned back, wondering what could scare an Autobot warrior.

Talon was many things; young, troubled, a wiz with munitions and weapons...such a combination led to many things, among them creativity. And thinking that she would be facing a lot of plants, she stocked up on the one thing she figured would be most useful against them in an explosive...weed killer.

The bomb exploded as soon as it hit the floor, coating every single thing in the lab with a thin layer of its contents. All plant-based materials within the room began to dissolve and fall apart. Brushguard's pride and joy, still ingesting its creator even as it begged to be fed, screamed out as the chemical made contact, eating through its body, dissolving its leaves and wearing away at its stem and bulb...until each and every plant exploded.

The violence of the act triggered the lab's sprinkler system, raining water down upon everything and reducing the exploded remnants of plant to sludge. It slid down the hall, surprising the six Mini-Cons as they watched. What remained of Brushguard washed up with them, partly coated in the gooey remains of his work.

Grindor shook his head disgustedly. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Then let me fix that."

The six looked in surprise as Overhaul, forgotten in the attack, rear-ended them, crashing them into a wall and knocking each of them unconscious. He transformed, then looked over the remnants of his cousin's work. He said nothing as the goop began to flow into small drains in the floor, staining the floor green as it went.

* * *

Nemesis Prime growled as he grabbed at Jazz's chest, then tossed him away like a rag doll. The Pontiac transformed mid-fall, swerved around, then charged back towards his opponent, transforming and deploying his sword as he counter-attacked.

The herald retaliated, weaving back and striking with his maces. His smaller opponent dodged and fired, prompting him to blast him with his massive cannon, all the while tossing out taunts the Special Ops agent no doubt picked up from the Internet. Twin bursts of energy plowed into the smaller Autobot, washing off on his shield but doing little damage otherwise. Where Nemesis Prime dealt out brute force and left large craters via energy and physical weapons, Jazz's nimbleness prompted him for hit-and-run tactics with the occasional pot shots.

Nemesis Prime narrowed his optics as the Solstice gave a cheeky and smug grin. "If you truly wish to die, insect, then I will oblige. And once I've ripped your body in two, I shall do as I did on Nebulos and on Cybertron, and sap the spark out of you."

Massive bursts of energy tore into his back, prompting him to turn about. Flying above him, jets firing off from reddened boots and massive blue armor lined with guns on his shoulders and arms, floated Optimus Prime.

"That explains a great deal." Sand whirled in a miniature storm as the Autobot leader landed. "Stand down Jazz. This monster is mine."

Nemesis Prime laughed, his of chilliness and darkness that would never see light. "My apologies...but my work here is done."

Fingers snapped. Even with The Race Team still violently attacking them, the Speed Chasers surged towards him, their armor regenerating as they recombined as the Magnawing Shield, and came to a rest in his free hand.

"To our next meeting Optimus Prime." The beast faded from view, his greedy black optics the last to disappear. "That one shall be our last."

The Autobot leader didn't reply as he disconnected from Wing Saber, catching sight of Sideways throwing off the Dinobots and disappearing. He turned to Jazz. "Still standing old friend?"

"You expect anything else?" He glanced to where his foe had vanished, visor hiding his optics but no less giving the sense of a side glance. "You and ugly have history, huh?"

"It's a long story."

Wing Saber quickly stepped up, concern on his face. "Optimus, don't we still have a job to do?"

* * *

COBRA Commander practically threw open the door to the aircraft as the secondary hangar opened. As visible as it was, it was pointless to worry about such things now; escape was the main priority. He would recoup later.

A Glock 17 quickly found itself pointed at his face. "And where do you think you are going?"

"Put that gun away Baroness and let me onto that plane!"

"And why should she, Commander?" Destro stepped forward, a FAMAS pointed at his commander. "So that we may flee, and you may lead us once more into folly? We are done; the war is over, and we have lost."

Beneath his blue hood, his eyes grew red and bloodied upon realizing what was happening. This was unacceptable. "Now is not the time to argue! Let me in, now!"

The hangar roof slid open, exposing them to the sky, just as several large guns found themselves pointed straight at them. The trio looked up just as a commanding voice ordered, "The three of you are going nowhere. Jazz?"

Destro's rifle, the Baroness's pistol, and the Commander's own Walther P99 magnetically shot into the air, landing in the waiting claw of the Autobot special operative, who promptly crushed them into dust. Exactly one second later, the door to the hangar was blown open, the human team and their new Mini-Con allies blocking off another exit.

Optimus Prime looked down upon the three people before him. The Baroness and Destro both remained silent, raising their arms in surrender. The Commander, however, was another matter.

"What are you doing?" He looked at them, then back at the robots, a manic expression in his eyes. "We are COBRA! We cannot be...!"

The familiar sounds of shifting and arranging parts, and Grimlock was once more a Tyrannosaurus Rex, the king of the dinosaurs, massive metal teeth glinting in the sun. He opened his maw wide and let out a bellowing roar, prompting the humans to cover their ears and the Transformers present to turn down their audio receptors with nary a flinch. It wasn't often the Dinobot leader had the opportunity to pull this sort of stunt on any fleshling and not be reprimanded for it later, and as such, he relished it.

The commander's mask rippled, his eyes wide in terror. After enjoying the tactic while it lasted, Grimlock rumbled threateningly, "Coward in mask had better shut mouth."

Much to her credit, Faireborn was not as easily cowed as her targets. She and her troops readied their M4s. "Baroness Anastasia DeCobray, James McCullen XXIV, and whoever the hell you are under that mask...you three are officially under arrest on charges of terrorism and crimes against humanity."

The commander shook his head, still unable to accept the reality that had finally come crashing down onto him. "It...it can't end like this...it just..."

Both Destro and the Baroness whirled onto their "leader". "SHUT IT!"

* * *

High above, Navy CH-53E Super Stallions flew away from Cobra Island, heading back to their carriers and holding numerous prisoners.

"Destro and the Baroness will be left for others to try, the same as those COBRA operatives from other nations. The Commander may be tried at the Hague, but that isn't my decision. We have free claim to the rest however...except for the Mini-Cons. They're all yours."

Optimus Prime nodded. "We all have clean-up to do from this it seems."

"It's not as bad as it could have been however." Franklin quickly checked things over in his mind. "One American soldier with a broken leg, but otherwise fine. We captured roughly all of COBRA's soldiers; the few that remain should be rounded up easily enough. And the only missile they fired didn't even hit its target. You've got a little more Energon to use, recaptured three enemy Mini-Con teams and regained the assistance of two more, not to mention finding Breakaway. And if Vector Prime's to be believed, that missile is on its way to the Sun now. No one will be hurt by it there."

"A few were still killed Michael." The Autobot leader cast his optics towards the headless body of Brushguard. The body had turned varying shades of grey, signaling his permanent demise and the human soldiers around the deceased mech certainly looked uncomfortable despite hiding it behind training. "No matter the loss, the rest of us are diminished by it. And there are occasionally worse things than death."

The colonel nodded. "Mirage told me. Can they be helped?"

"If we were ever to discover how their sparks were taken? Perhaps." He cast his optics skyward. "But that may be even worse. Still, despite that...I call today a victory."

* * *

"I am sorry, Vector Prime. I have failed you."

The ancient Transformer shook his head at the younger mech while placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "No Breakaway. You were unable to stop them; you have no blame for these acts. And aside from this, you did as instructed and guarded this stockpile. You did well...given the circumstances." He looked upon the pit, blue light emanating from it softly. "And now, perhaps sooner than expected, your task is done, and this stockpile may return from whence it came."

"To Cybertron...home." Breakaway smiled wistfully, despite himself. "It will be good to go home at last."

"And if you don't mind us saying..." Overcast stepped forward with Skyfall and Landquake in tow and finished, "...you'll be more than welcome there."

* * *

The doors slid open with a soft hiss, allowing the woman entrance to the spacious hangar provided by MacDill. Hazel eyes were focused solely upon a palm computer as she walked, light brown hair swaying lightly with each footstep. "Simmons, I've a busy schedule ahead of me, so kindly..." At last she looked up from her computer, a surprised smile crossing her lips. "Ah."

"Yvonne Hartman, I presume." Casually leaning against a table was Diana, the towering forms of the Transformer leaders standing behind her. At one end of the table sat Simmons and Beller, the latter scowling at the archaeologist and the former looking as if he'd rather be somewhere else. At the other sat Franklin and Keller, both silent but clearly displeased. Diana gestured to an empty seat alongside the S7 agent. "Please."

She pocketed the palm computer. "I hardly see why I'm..."

"You're the current head of the Torchwood Institute, based in Great Britain and the agency responsible for the strike against the _Axalon_." Optimus's voice was eerily calm. "An unprovoked strike."

"I'd sit if I were you," Starscream advised none too gently.

The smile faded from her face, but Hartman took the Decepticon's advice and hastily took a seat next to Beller. Diana sat in the remaining chair alongside the colonel and secretary and across from the senator as both mechs settled onto the hangar's floor, then cleared her throat. "As the three of you are well aware, Sector Seven and the Torchwood Institute, agencies of the United States and the United Kingdom, cooperated in a strike against Earth-based Cybertronian forces, the former surrounding Autobase Earth and the latter attacking a Cybertronian ship. These acts are a violation of the Cybertron Accord, something which both countries signed. Care to explain yourselves?"

While the implicated Americans maintained their stony silence, Hartman spoke up. "Well, clearly we overreacted in light of evidence from COBRA's resurgence. While it's clear that some Transformers were aiding the organization, not all of them were. For my organization's actions, I apologize."

"Why apologize?" Beller's glare was turned on the Autobot commander. "We have nothing to apologize for."

The red, white and blue semi ignored the senator's comment. "Thank you Ms. Hartman. Unfortunately, an apology isn't going to fix all of our problems."

"Both S7 and Torchwood acted against orders from their immediate superiors. While no lives were lost on either side, a military operation was almost jeopardized." Franklin leveled his eyes on the three. "And that cannon of yours is making the rest of us nervous."

"That cannon is for the defense of Britain against extraterrestrial attack."

"And what's stopping it from being used against something terrestrial?" Keller leaned forward, a skeptical eye on the British official with laced hands in front of him. "That thing tore through the shields on a spacecraft whose technology is far superior to our own. I'd hate to see it be used on any satellite, particularly one tied to communications."

Hartman regained her easy smile. "We wouldn't use it unprovoked."

The two Transformers gave one another the briefest of glances. "The cannon aside, we've seen your mission statement." Starscream crossed his arms. "'If it's alien, it's ours,' if memory serves. Losing that Mini-Con pod you found in Scotland thanks to us probably didn't sit too well with you."

Torchwood's director was taken aback, but only for a moment. "Well, we did have that treaty after all."

Beller growled at last, and violently stood up. "Enough of this. You know we can hurt you – leave the planet, NOW."

"Senator, with what little respect is due you at this point...stuff it." The F-22 leaned forward, his optics narrowed at the senator. "You have issue with us, fine. You blame us for your brother's death. I know how it feels to lose a sibling, as does Optimus, but that is no excuse for your recent actions. You jeopardized a military operation, and between the three of you, YOU almost sparked an interplanetary incident with your decision. If anything, this demonstrates why we're so hesitant to share technology with humanity; you could use it against us, or one another."

"Well, how you supposed to stop that?" Simmons finally spoke up, giving the Decepticon a wary look. "Not like we're going to go away, and you probably aren't either."

"You're right." Optimus's voice indicated a grim smile. "Which is why we'd like to propose a compromise. Sector Seven was established long before any human knew of Cybertronians, and Torchwood before them; both organizations have experience with nonhuman races other than us. And however your organizations have acquired your hardware, you've done so." He leant forward, more so to be on their level to drive in his point. "Now you need to stop thinking of the defense of your particular corners of the planet, and start thinking of the defense of your world. We can help. 'By any means necessary' doesn't have to mean shooting down spacecraft."

"The US military has already assisted in the construction of weapons systems to aid the Transformers, and has been working for months to reverse-engineer and utilize wreckage from technologies retrieved thanks to the Transformers. With S7 and Torchwood providing assistance, we could both get what we want." Franklin side-glanced Beller as he added, "Something like that would require oversight however. They aren't going anywhere Senator, but you can at least keep an eye upon the ones that are here."

The senator leaned back in her seat, looking upon the colonel suspiciously. "And I should go with this why?"

Diana cocked an eyebrow. "We could always let the press know about your involvement in the blockade at Longs Peak."

Beller narrowed her eyes. "Fine. But I'll only agree to this if you reduce the number of ships you have hanging around on Earth."

"Easily done. Unknown to us until a few months ago, an ancient Cybertronian vessel has been on Earth since before recorded human history, called _Atlantis_. It inspired myths about the continent of the same name, and the Transformers who lived upon it may well have inspired others. The few still left have joined the Autobot ranks, and have recently finished repairs. Once the Energon deposit on COBRA Island has been siphoned, _Atlantis_ will return to Cybertron alongside the _Hyperion_ and _Flash Frenzy_. The _Axalon_, meanwhile, has been repaired, and will remain in Earth orbit." Optimus's optics were affixed upon Hartman and Beller. "However, this is entirely dependant upon you. I've no issue with salvaging technology from wreckage or an abandoned craft, but if any attack is made against a Cybertronian ship or any non-aggressive vessel, this agreement will be null and void. The _Axalon_ will leave, Autobase Earth will be decommissioned and stripped, and all non-human technology on Earth will be disabled." He raised a finger before Hartman could protest. "If humanity wants to go to the stars, fine, but it won't be as a conqueror. If you want our technology and our assistance, it will be on our terms. Take it or leave it."

Hartman sighed. "Seems we don't have much choice. Rather generous of you to not disable the cannon now."

"Based on what we know, Earth might just need it." Alarmed eyes looked upon the Autobot leader. "There may be reason in the future for the _Axalon_ to be away from Earth, and as your organizations know, not all aliens are as benevolent as the average Transformer. That cannon, and any other such weapons, is more than capable of defending this planet. And if you accept our agreement, we might even be able to enhance it."

The S7 agent shook his head, and gave his British counterpart a sideways glance. "You believe this?"

Hartman shrugged. "I don't think we have much choice." She turned back to the Transformers and their allies. "I'll need to speak with my superiors, but I think we can accept that offer."

Simmons didn't speak one way or another; one way of getting tech was as good as any. Beller, meanwhile, gave an uneasy nod. She'd play by their rules...for now.

* * *

Out over the Atlantic waters known as the Bermuda Triangle, the water was disturbed, waves rising and falling rapidly. Within a few short seconds, the golden tip of a tower ascended over the ocean's surface, further golden surfaces following. Soon, more of the object became visible over the sea, and at last, water streaming from its surfaces and dripping down back into the ocean, it emerged.

_Atlantis_ had arisen again, after tens of thousands of years beneath the waves.

"Engine's charged and ready, but we can't make it to Cybertron in one jump." Hightail looked over the console before him as he made some calculations. "We'll have to do it in small hops instead; a brief warp, then back to normal space. Should take us about four Earth days."

Evac gazed upon the various displays, taking one last look upon the planet of his birth. "We've waited a lifetime to see Cybertron; we can handle four days easy. Go for it."

Were there any witnesses, they would not have believed their eyes. Had they blinked, however, they would have missed the ship wink out of existence, space and time warping and twisting around it as it faded away, then simply going back to the way it was.

The End


End file.
